


The Old and The New

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, New Team Member, Other, Team Dynamics, bau
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-07 08:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 48,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10356816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	1. Chapter 1

If someone had told Emily that she’d been the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit for more than 15 years now, she would’ve thought they were insane. But it was true. Nearly 15 years after Hotch retired to spend more time with his son, Emily Prentiss was still heading the BAU alongside her friends, Dr. Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau and Luke Alvez. While the five of them made a great team, they were all getting older and definitely needed to bring some new blood to the team. So weeks ago, Emily had opened up applications for two new positions. Although she was the head of the unit, she didn’t want to make this kind of a decision without the help of the rest of the team - it affected them too.

“I have it narrowed down to 20 names. I think I’m going to have them come in in groups of five and we’ll all take one under our wing during the course of a case. Then maybe we’ll narrow it down to ten, and then pick two?” she asked confused. “I don’t know. This is hard!”

JJ walked to Emily’s side of the desk and gave her a hug. “We’ll help. Don’t worry. Are there any that stand out more than the others?” 

“Two,” she said picking up the files. “Y/F/N Y/L/N. Graduated top of her class at both MIT and Harvard with Ph.D.s in psychology and English literature. She’s only 22 years old. Started college when she was 14 and completed her Ph.D.’s simultaneously. She’s also a fourth-degree black belt in Taekwondo. And the other is…” She pulled out the file and proudly said the name of someone they all knew. “Our very own Jack Hotchner.”

“Jack applied?!” Spencer asked in surprise. “I was almost positive that Hotch would’ve done whatever he could to talk Jack out of applying after what happened with Hayley.”

Hotch had tried. Oh man, had he tried. But Jack grew up watching his father be a hero and he wanted to follow in his footsteps. He’d also started college early, at 16, which the team was aware of. They knew he was on the path to pursuing law enforcement in some way, but they never expected him to apply for a position with the Bureau. Now 24, Jack had graduated valedictorian from Yale with a dual JD/Ph.D. His father had also been a lawyer at one point, so it felt right for him to pursue a dual degree. “The only thing I want to make sure of is that we aren’t persuaded because of the fact that we know him so well, so Luke,” Emily said, pointing at the newest of the five on the team (although he’d been on the team for 15 years now, he was the newest, as Garcia continually reminded him…”newbie”). “Luke, you only worked a couple cases with Hotch before he retired, so you don’t know him or Jack like we do. Make sure that we aren’t being persuaded because of who he is. Keep us in check.”

“No problem,” he replied. “But with a dual degree like that I don’t doubt he’d be an asset to the team.” Even if he didn’t know Jack, knowing he was a Hotchner was definitely something.

Given the large number of candidates they had, each of the five current members took four candidates to call, let them know that they would be called at some point to accompany the team on a case, along with four other possible candidates. They were to be told that there were 20 possible candidates and only two positions, so they all needed to bring it if they had any hope of joining the team. 

As the unit chief, Emily decided to be the one to call Jack. “Hotch?” she said, when Aaron picked up the line. “How’re you? We miss you over here.” It had been more than 15 years, but their old boss was still missed every day. 

“I miss you all too,” he said sincerely. “How’re you doing? Is there something you need help with?” Anytime someone called, he was afraid that one of the team members was in trouble. Despite his retirement, he would be there if it meant saving a member of his family.

“Nothing’s wrong, at all actually,” she said hesitantly. “It’s actually about Jack. You’re aware he applied for a position at the BAU?”

His heavy sigh on the other line betrayed his lack of words. He was very proud of his son, but he was also petrified for him. At 24 though, Jack was his own man and Hotch had to learn how to live with it. “Yea, I’m aware. He made the cut?” Not so much a question as a confirmation of his beliefs. 

Emily told him that of course he did, but Luke was going to be doing most of his evaluations because they all knew him too well. “I was actually calling to talk to him and let him know. Is he there?”

“Hold on one second,” he said, screaming down the hall for his son. Despite the fact that Hotch was scared for him, Emily could hear in his voice that he was proud of and excited for his son. “Here he is. Miss you all.”

“Miss you too, Hotch,” she said as Jack picked up the line. In her mind, Jack was still the toddler she met all those years ago, but the man’s voice on the other side of the line belonged to the same human being. “Jack, hi,” she said cheerfully.

“Aunt Emily,” he said happily. “How’re you? Dad says you’ve got good news for me?” She almost teared at the tension in his voice; he wanted this more than anything. 

When she told him he’d been accepted into the first round of candidates, she almost went deaf from the hooping and hollering that went on for nearly five minutes on the other line. It filled her heart with joy to hear him running around the house screaming, with Hotch laughing in the background. The team missed Hotch, but he was where he needed to be. His relationship with Jack had become even closer since he’d retired. “You feel better now?” she laughed. “I do have one thing I have to say about this whole thing though.” As much as she loved him, she couldn’t let him think that everything was made in the shade because he had an in with the Bureau; he needed to work his ass off for this. 

“What is it?” he asked.

“Myself, Aunt JJ, Aunt Garcia, and Uncle Spencer are not going to be the ones conducting your evaluation. You’ll be working with the one member of our team that you don’t know that well, Luke Alvez,” she stipulated.

Jack heaved a sigh of relief on the other side of the line; he had assumed something horrible, but this he figured. “Because the rest of you are too biased,” he replied. “I get that. I swear, Aunt Emily, I don’t want to get this position because Dad worked there. I want to be picked because I’m right for the job. I plan on proving myself.” He had worked so hard - studied day in and day out - this was all he wanted for years. He planned on earning it.

“Okay, kiddo,” she said happily. “Luke will give you a call when you’re to come in for a case. Since we have 20 candidates, you are going to be working a case with the team, as well as four other candidates, so come prepared.

After another scream of happiness on the other side of the phone, Jack repeated that he was going to make them all proud. When she hung up the phone, she stared out her office window. So much time had passed. So much had changed. When she started, she was working under Hotch. Now she was the boss and would be working with Hotch’s son; time sure flew by in a blink.

—–

It was nearly four weeks before Jack got called in for a case, but the morning he did, he had to cut his breakfast with a friend short. “Oh man, I finally got called in for a case, I gotta go,” he said excitedly, popping up from the table and grabbing Henry’s hand. He grew up alongside Henry LaMontagne, though he was a couple years younger than he. They didn’t go to college together, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have had classes together, but the two remained close through the years, and now Henry was about to start his practice in art therapy, specifically dealing with victims of violent crime. He was inspired by his mother, father, aunts and uncles as well, but in his own way. Michael on the other hand wanted to follow directly in his mother’s footsteps, but he was still in high school so JJ didn’t have to worry about that just yet.

“Good luck, man,” he said, bringing Jack in for a hug and patting him on the back. “You’re gonna be great. You’re working with Luke right? Because you don’t really know him?”

Jack shook his head as he slapped the table in excitement and ran toward his car. “Catch you later, Henry! I’ll text you when I get back!” He’d waited so long for this. It was time to show his aunts and uncle that he was more than just Aaron Hotchner’s son.

—–

As he walked into the BAU, he remembered coming here as a child. For the most part, when he was here, it wasn’t anything good, but as the warm feeling washed over him, he knew this was what he wanted and where he knew he should be. Luke had been the one to call him, as his Aunt Emily had said, and told him to meet in the conference room. He also reminded him that at work, Emily, Spencer, Penelope and JJ were to be addressed by Agent and their last names unless otherwise stated. He laughed; it wasn’t like he wanted everyone to know that he had a personal connection to the team. That might lead them to believe he wasn’t truly qualified for the job. 

When he walked into the room, Jack found that he was the last one there. Two women and two other men around the same age turned around and introduced themselves. “Tiana Smith.”

“David Holden.”

“Dashawn Jones.”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Jack Brooks,” he said by default. If he made it onto the team, he would eventually tell people that he was the son of the famed BAU agent, but until then he planned on using his mother’s maiden name. Quickly, he pulled out his phone to text his aunts and uncles that he used his mother’s maiden name.

“Hello, everyone,” Emily said as she and the rest of the BAU walked into the conference room. “My name is SSA Emily Prentiss and these are SSAs Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia and Dr. Spencer Reid. Seems we have quite a few Doctors with us now.” She looked toward Jack, as well as Y/N and Tiana, both of whom had numerous doctoral degrees. “On this case, each of you will be assigned a cooperating agent and at the end of this case we will discuss among the five of us, if one or more of you make the cut for the next round of cases. That being said, Agent Brooks, you’ll be working with SSA Alvez. Agent Smith, you’re with me. Agent Y/L/N, you’re with Dr. Reid. Agent Jones, you’re with SSA Jareau. And Agent Holden, given your specialty in cybersecurity, you’ll be with SSA Garcia.”

Each of the new candidates introduced themselves to their cooperating agent, but only briefly. They did actually have a case. And they all needed to get to work. As Jack sat down at the table, he wondered whether or not he was completely out of his league - and he also couldn’t help but notice how cute his Uncle Spencer’s assignee was.

“We are headed to the land of corn fields, corn fields and more corn fields,” Penelope said. “Now, I know what you’re all thinking. That could mean any number of states or cities, but in this case, I am referring to Iowa, specifically Cedar Rapids, where two officers from the city’s police department were found sleeping with the fishes.”

Y/N blurted out without thinking. “Don’t tell me they were given cement shoes,” she said in disbelief. “They were?”

“Basically yes, oh young one,” she said without missing a beat. “They were weighed down with cement blocks and dropped into Lake Red Rock nearly two hours away, but the reason they are calling us in is because this type of death is most commonly associated with the mob, but there is next to no trace of any mob in that area. Election time is up-and-coming however, and the Cedar Rapids department got a strange message that points the finger at a politician as the perpetrator.” With a flick of her wrist, she pointed her hand back at the screen to play the message.

Your cop killer is a politician. Everyone is trying to cover their asses, but the man you’re looking for has a lot of money, a very shady past, and aspirations to become president. If someone doesn’t catch him soon, he’s going to buy and kill his way to the top.

“That is weird,” Jack said out loud. “Oh sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” Emily said. “You’re here because you are qualified. We want your input. Everyone. So don’t be shy.” Looking around the room, she could tell off the bat that some were going to be more willing to speak up than others.

“This is a unique case in an unlikely area,” she said, standing up from the table and motioning towards the five young candidates. “And it’s a big one. Political corruption is nothing to sneeze at. Am I clear when I say that you are to listen to your cooperating agents at every turn? No going off on your own?” she asked.

A round of “yes ma’ams” made their way around the room. “Okay. We’ll discuss victimology on the plane. Wheels up in 30.”


	2. Just Getting Started

“Alright, so let’s get to know each other,” Y/N said as the five candidates sat down on the jet. Agent Prentiss had said wheels up in 30, but all of them wanted to make sure they were there on time, so immediately after being dismissed, they headed toward the jet, go-bags in hand. “My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I started college at 14, went to MIT and Harvard, Harvard was remotely. I have two Ph.D.s. I can kick your ass in Taekwondo and I’m 22.” 

Jack laughed as he sat across from the cute new agent. Maybe he would be lucky enough and he and Y/N would both make the team. God, she was cute. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’d grown up with Spencer for an uncle, he would’ve been put off by her rambling about her degrees, but he was used to it, so he kind of found it endearing. She was definitely the most animated of the bunch. “You! Jack, is it?”

“Yea,” he said, leaning back in his chair. This felt so right. “My name is Jack Brooks. I have a dual Ph.D./JD from Yale. I have no martial arts skills whatsoever, but I am a fantastic shot, and I feel like this is what I’m supposed to be doing.” At the mention of his last name, Y/N raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t know, could she?

While the five very new, very green agents waited for their superiors, the rest of them introduced themselves. Tiana was the oldest of the group at 30. She was a single mother of one son and had taken until now to put herself through school. Her goals were to either work for the BAU or for counter-terrorism; she was interested in both. She was also the other candidate with a Ph.D., a dual one in mathematics and criminology from Duke. Dashawn had a master’s degree in chemical engineering and applied to this position on the fly; he wanted the experience. And David, with his master’s degree in computer science specializing in cybersecurity, was without a doubt the most quiet of the five, extremely put off by Y/N’s out there nature.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet everyone,” Y/N said as David turned himself away from her. “I look forward to working with all of you.”

“Me also,” Jack said, extending his hand across the seat toward her. When he took her hand, he felt a little spark of something. Reminded him a little of how he felt the first time he asked out his high school girlfriend, Shaina.

Just as Jack let go of her hand and shook hands with the rest of the possible candidates, his aunts, uncle and partner for this case, Luke, finally came on board. They were actually on time, it was just the the new recruits were insanely early. “Alright everyone,” Emily said as she alerted the pilot that everyone was on board, “We are off to Cedar Rapids. Let’s go over victimology.” The new recruits needed to learn; that’s what they were here for after all. So instead of taking the lead, the senior team members would basically be sitting back and letting the newbies run the show, assisting them if they drifted off track. Tiana was the first one to start things off. 

“I’ll start I guess,” she said, rifling through the files. “John Cogswell, 45, and Anthony Heskett, 47, were the two officers found floating in Lake Red Rock, but they worked for the Cedar Rapids PD. So my first question would be why were they dumped two hours away from where they worked and lived?”

Jack was about to speak up when Y/N took the words out of his mouth. He was going to have to watch out for her. “It could be as simple as the fact that Lake Red Rock is one of the biggest bodies of water in the state at more than 15,000 acres.”

“15,520 actually,” came a voice from across the jet. Of course it was Dr. Reid. 

Y/N smiled at her cooperating agent. “We’re going to have a lot of fun aren’t we Dr. Reid?” Emily smacked Reid in the back of the head while the kids got back to victimology. “Anyway, it could be because of the size of the lake. The lake could have special meaning to the unsub. Or…”

“Or if the unsub has intimate knowledge of law enforcement, he might have dumped them in another county to try and bring the case to another jurisdiction,” Jack said before Y/N could get the words out. “Cedar Rapids had to overstep their bounds because the victims were members of their department, but it should actually belong to the Marion County PD, right?” A little nod from Luke told him he was right. Y/N just smirked at him. Hey, there were only two positions and he could tell she liked to talk, so he needed to make his presence known. 

While the two playfully glared at each other, Agent Holden spoke up for the first time since he’d been forced by Y/N to introduce himself. “The next question is why these two officers. What did Cogswell and Heskett do or know that brought on the wrath of the unsub? Based on the message that we heard, it’s likely that the two had intimate knowledge of one of the area’s politician’s dark past. Whoever it was needed to get rid of any evidence of this dark past, and Cogswell and Heskett were evidence.”

“Exactly,” Dashawn said. The five of them seemed to be working together very well. Jack wondered how long that would last. “Given that they were weighed down, our unsub desperately didn’t want any evidence coming back to haunt him. He’s definitely personally connected, otherwise there would have been no reason to weigh them down, he could’ve just dumped them.”

“What about the message that was left at the police department?” JJ said. “What can you learn from the way he spoke? What he said?” Her best friend was at her side twitching. She could see how much it was killing him to not answer those questions himself, but he was keeping control of his motor mouth. 

Y/N was the one with the degree in English, so it made sense that she immediately jumped on that question. “The colloquial usage of “covering their asses” makes me believe that the person who made the call doesn’t know the unsub personally, but does have personal knowledge of what the unsub’s past is. He also sounds very positive of who it is. There was no shakiness in his voice that one might connect with being unsure of his assertions.”

As Jack went over the message in his mind, something dawned on him - it meant more bodies. “He said, ‘if someone doesn’t catch him soon, he’s going to buy and kill his way to the top,’ which means…there is likely at least one other person that our unsub intends to go after. The use of ‘going to’ indicates that he still has work to do.”

“Evidence to dispose of,” Tiana muttered as she took a deep breath.

Agent Holden would be doing most of his work with Garcia once they arrived. “When we get there, someone should probably compile a list of the richest politicians in the area,” he said, turning around toward his cooperating agent. She nodded in his direction. 

“You and I will start that once we land, my sweet.”

“We might not want to just limit it to straight-up politicians, but rich people in the area that have aspirations to join the political arena. He doesn’t necessarily have to be established in the field already,” Jack said. When he looked toward Y/N, he could see she and Tiana raise their eyebrows. He’d thought of something they hadn’t. Apparently, he’d also made an impression on the senior team members, as they were sporting similar expressions. 

Y/N got from her seat to stretch her legs, nearly smacking Holden in the face when she did so. “Given the sophistication of the crime so far, as well as the age of the victims, it’s likely our unsub is within 10 years of the victims, so between 35 and 55. What if we look back between 10-20 years for cases that involved our two officers, whether as victims or officers. It’s more than possible that they covered up something when they first joined the force that’s coming back to haunt them now.”

“Good idea,” Luke said. “If we do end up with another victim, we could add him or her to that list. See if multiple officers were involved in a case years back.”

“Great work everyone,” Emily said as she walked over to the newbies and leaned back on one of the jet’s chairs. “When we land, Agent Holden, you’ll work with Garcia to compile those lists. Agent Brooks, you’ll head with Luke to Lake Red Rock to check out the dump site. Spencer, you and Agent Y/L/N will go interview the family’s of the officers, see if there is anything they might know about who wanted to come after them. Agent Jones and Agent Smith, you’ll be with JJ and myself at the Cedar Rapids Police Department interviewing the officers, especially the ones that worked closely with Cogswell and Heskett, and working on the profile.”

As the plane began to descend, all of the agents, both old and new, had a feeling that this case wasn’t going to be cut and dry - that the more they dug, the more dirt they would uncover. They just hoped that no one else would be taken down in the process.


	3. You Can't Escape Your Past

Once they got on the ground, the team and their new recruits began to disembark, with Jack and Y/N as the last two to walk out. “Crap!” she exclaimed, as her heel touched down badly on the stairs, causing her to lurch forward into Jack’s back, which sent them both flying down the stairs until they ended up together at the bottom, Y/N splayed across Jack’s midsection and Jack flat against the concrete. Everyone rushed back to make sure she was okay, but she couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m so graceful,” she said, pushing up off the ground and reaching out to help Jack up. “I’m unbelievably sorry. You okay?”

“Yea,” he smiled. “I’m fine. You weigh next to nothing. I was hit harder by girls in school.”

She seemed to take offense to that. “Oh, don’t you doubt that I would absolutely be able to kick your ass…Brooks.” Okay, that was the second time, he caught something from her when his last name was mentioned. Did she know? How could she know? “Now, that I’m done being insanely graceful, why don’t we get to work.” 

As the 10 agents walked off the tarmac, they were greeted by the Cedar Rapids PD. “Hello everyone. Thanks so much for coming out. This is a little beyond what we’re used to.”

“We are an asset for all levels of law enforcement,” JJ said. “It’s our pleasure.”

“Alright,” Emily started. “We all have our assignments. Let’s get a jump on this.” While Emily, JJ and Penelope headed back to the station along with Agents Holden, Smith and Jones, Y/N hopped into a car with Dr. Reid, who she seemed very chummy with already. Jack had no idea why he didn’t like that. Actually, he knew exactly why, but he had no reason to be jealous because he didn’t know her. Apparently, he wanted to. But she seemed a little more interested in his uncle. God, this was weird.

A third car held another officer, Officer Boneck, who would drive Luke and Jack to Lake Red Rock to check out the scene. “So Jack,” Luke said as they spilled into the car.

“Look, Agent Alvez,” Jack interrupted, “I just want you to know that I don’t want this job because I’m connected to my father. I want to prove myself apart from him.”

Luke just laughed; he would expect nothing less. Any child of Aaron Hotchner’s was bound to want to distance himself from the name. Not that he was ashamed, not at all. It was actually the complete opposite, but if he were Jack, he wouldn’t want anyone thinking that he only got this opportunity because of his father. “I know, Jack. That actually wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“Oh,” he replied, surprised. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say, you look like you might have a little crush on Y/N,” he smiled. Jack said nothing, only smiling and pulling on his seatbelt while the local officer pulled off the tarmac and onto the road ahead. 

—-

Within 15 minutes, the three senior female agents as well as their proteges had made their way into the station and set up. “Okay, so Agent Holden and I are going to start compiling those lists,” Penelope said, tugging on Holden’s arm and leading him toward the station where they’d be working. 

After setting up in a conference room next to where Penelope and Holden were situated, Emily and JJ talked about the profile in vague ideas, while waiting on some kind of a list for them to work off of. “We can’t do much without a list, or information from Luke and Spencer, but we can talk to some of the other officers that worked closely with Cogswell and Heskett. Officer?” Emily said flagging down the chief of the department that had brought them in. “Which of your officers worked closely with the two victims?”

“That would be Tishler and Rana, their newbies, as well as Basson and Herzfeld who were partnered up with Cogswell and Heskett before they took on the newbies,” he said with a sigh. The chief was sweating uncontrollably, which could’ve been attributed to the heat, or maybe he was under an insane amount of stress, due to the case, or maybe his knowledge of it, they weren’t sure. At this point in time, everyone was a suspect.

Emily nodded, walking back to the small group. “So Cogswell and Heskett had proteges, as well as partners from before they were assigned new ones. JJ, you and Agent Jones can interview Tishler and Basson, and Agent Smith, you and I will take Rana and Herzfeld. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get something out of them that we can work off of until we get some new information.”

—-

Nearly an hour and a half later, Officer Boneck had gotten Luke and Jack to Lake Red Rock in record time. “I just want to know who’s at the bottom of this,” he said. “This isn’t the type of thing we normally experience out here.”

“Well, take us to the dump site,” Luke said, putting on his sunglasses as they exited the vehicle. “Let’s see what we can do.”

As they approached the lake, Jack took note of the concrete bricks that had been attached to the victims. “This looks like an extremely durable kind of concrete,” he said after pulling on gloves and picking up the weight. “You see how few pores there are in it, Agent Alvez.” He stood up and showed the brick to Luke, grazing his hand over the impossibly smooth concrete. 

“Please, call me Luke,” he said, “And yea. That’s not common is it?”

It wasn’t. Concrete for basic construction normally had some kind of pores. “This is much denser, heavier than it needs to be. The weight was so heavy that the rope attached to it frayed and broke, which was what caused the bodies to rise up to the surface. If it had been a more typical kind of concrete, there wouldn’t have been so much weight on the rope. It’s very possible they wouldn’t have risen up if another kind of concrete had been used.” Luke arched his eyebrows. He’d made an impression. Yes.

“So we could be looking for someone who has a very basic knowledge of concrete, but probably not someone who’s directly in contact with it everyday, because they would’ve known to use a different type of concrete?” Luke asked no one in particular.

That’s what first came to Jack’s mind. “The rope is your garden variety kind used for a million different things, so we won’t be able to track anyone down through that, but with the concrete, there’s a possibility we’ll be able to narrow a list down once we have it.”

“Good work, kid,” Luke said, slapping him on the shoulder. “I wanna take a quick look around the surrounding area and see if we can find anything else of interest, but this should definitely help us narrow things down.”

As Luke and Jack stepped to opposite directions of the crime scene, Jack smiled to himself. He’d made an impression; he noticed something that Luke might not have known. That had to be good. Right? God, he wanted this more than anything, but first and foremost he needed to focus on the case. A cold feeling washed over him despite the heat outside and the warm breeze floating off the lake; he had a bad feeling they were about to find another body.

—-

While Jack and Luke made their way back to the local station, Emily, JJ, Smith and Jones conducted brief interviews with officers Tishler, Rana and Basson. Tishler and Rana’s interviews brought them nothing; the new officers had only been paired with the seniors for a few months, but Basson gave them a little something they might be able to work with. “So Basson said that Cogswell, Heskett and Herzfeld were all a little jumpy as of late,” JJ said after returning from the interview. “When we asked him what they were so jumpy about, he said that they’d had a meeting with someone, he didn’t know who, recently and since then, they’d been on edge all the time.” 

Jones came out from behind JJ. “The meeting took place over a lunch break, which was the only reason that Basson knew about it. It’s likely that the three of them had a meeting with our unsub,” he said. “Maybe the three officers and our unsub were friends in school? Something they did in the past is coming back to bite them?”

“It’s the most likely possibility based on the information we have right now,” Emily said. “It makes sense because when we went to go interview Herzfeld, we were told that he went home for lunch, but when we called his wife, she said he hadn’t come home at all today. Herzfeld is missing.”

“If the unsub was friends with the three officers at one point then we need to find Herzfeld quickly,” Smith said, crossing her hands across her chest. “Because he’s the last piece of evidence that the unsub needs to get rid of.”

—-

After leaving the wives of Cogswell and Heskett, Emily told Spencer and Y/N to head over to Herzfeld’s house to interview his wife. “So both wives claim their husbands have been on edge lately, but neither know why,” Y/N said, attempting to cement the interview in her brain. 

“And Cogswell’s wife said her husband claims to have done something stupid in his past that he believes is coming back to haunt him,” Spencer replied. “So this isn’t some mob hit, this is something personal.”

“I feel like that makes it harder,” Y/N said, grabbing her rib ever so slightly. 

Spencer noticed her touching her side and wondered if she’d hurt herself when she fell off the plane. “You okay?” he asked. “You know a fall like that can feel fine when it first happens, but can come back and hurt later. Keep an eye on it. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’m good, Dr. Reid. I’ve been hit harder before,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow. “But I always feel like smaller cases are worse. The secrets are kept closer. That kind of thing.”

“Please, call me Spencer. And that does tend to be the case. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yea, Dr…Spencer. I promise I’m good. Thanks. We should probably see if Herzfeld’s wife can tell us anything knew.”

As they approached the door, they prayed that Herzfeld himself might be home, but no such luck. “Mrs. Herzfeld, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid and this is my associate, Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N. We’re here to talk to you about your husband. He hasn’t returned home?”

“No,” she cried. “He always said that his past would come back to bit him in the ass one day.” That day was today.


	4. One Man's Desperation

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked as Mrs. Herzfeld invited them inside. “Did he say anything specifically about his past? Or was he just being vague?”

She sat down on the couch, her head hanging in her hands as she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Herzfeld,” Y/N said, reaching across the table and placing her hand on the woman’s arms. “Take your time. Anything you might be able to tell us would be immensely helpful.” Spencer took in the way Y/N interacted with people. Despite her out-there nature, she was compassionate and sweet when she needed to be. Interacted with people very well.

A tear rolled down the woman’s face as she looked up with a half smile, grateful for the agent’s compassion. “He said he did something stupid when he first joined the force more than 20 years ago.”

“How old is your husband?” Spencer asked. Y/N was glad he said ‘is’ rather than ‘was,’ even though it was more than likely that her husband was dead.

“46. He joined the force when he was 23.”

As Mrs. Herzfeld grimaced, probably coming to the realization that she wasn’t going to see her husband again, Y/N squeezed her hand gently. “Did he give any indication as to when this part of his past occurred?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” she shrugged, “But at one point I thought I heard him mention that it happened, ‘a couple years’ after he started. “So he was maybe 25?”

“And he said nothing about who else was involved?” Spencer encouraged. “About what happened?”

Mrs. Herzfeld sucked in her lips as they quivered. “Cogswell and Heskett,” she said sadly. “And…someone named Bohen…or Cohen…I’m not sure. He never mentioned what it was. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“Ma’am,” Y/N said, squeezing her hand again. “You’ve been more than enough help. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us.”

As mentor and mentee stood up and walked out, they told the grieving wife that they’d be in touch as soon as they found something out. “Well, Bohen or Cohen leads us in a better direction than when we went in,” Y/N said. “And we know that it does have something to do with something that happened between 20 and 25 years ago.”

“Having a time frame and a possible name will go a long way to narrowing this down. She was much more help than she realized.” The two piled into the car and headed back toward the station. A text from Luke read that they’d examined the concrete bricks. Whoever the unsub was had a basic, but definitely not extensive knowledge of concrete. Jack and Luke were on their way back as well, and they’d left much earlier, so everyone would probably convene back at the station at around the same time. “So, Y/N, do you have a nickname you prefer to be called?” Spencer asked with a smile. 

“Kiddo,” she replied quickly, waiting to see if Spencer would understand where the name came from. There was some inkling, but he couldn’t place it. “I watched Kill Bill a ton as a teenager. The Bride was always the most badass human being ever to me. Beautiful and brutal. And I was always picking fights with the school bullies, so the guys would be afraid of me and they’d also make a move on me. I, of course, never gave them the time of day. But from a young age, they started calling me either Kiddo, or Ripley. They meant it as an insult, but I adopted the names happily and proudly.”

“Movies from my day. Yes. So, I can call you Kiddo? Because I like that one.” Spencer asked. She shook her head, excited to already have a nickname from one of the famed members of the BAU. “Well, Kiddo, you are aware that Agent H…Agent Brooks has a crush on you, right?”

Spencer almost panicked. He’d almost said Hotchner and he promised he wouldn’t. Y/N seemed to notice his slip up, but she let it slide, smiling at the prospect of Jack having a thing for her. Spencer thought they’d be cute together, and Jack deserved the best. “I’m aware,” she smiled, as they pulled up to the station. Without another word, she flooded out of the car and walked back inside. For some reason, Spencer thought she knew more, of what he didn’t know, than she let on.

—–

After an hour and a half ride back to the station, Jack and Luke pulled up just as Spencer and Y/N did the same. “Anything?” Luke asked, slapping Spencer on the shoulder as they walked inside with Jack following closely behind. 

“Mrs. Herzfeld gave us a possible last name of Bohen or Cohen, as well as a possible timeline of 20-to-25 years ago,” Spencer said, walking around Y/N in such a way that he had to place her in Jack’s path. As he watched her smile, he kind of understood why Penelope enjoyed playing matchmaker so much. “Hopefully Garcia has a list of names for us.”

Once inside, the four agents walked into the conference where Smith, Jones, JJ and Emily were situated. “Any news on Herzfeld?” Luke asked. They still hadn’t heard anything on where he was. Garcia had attempted to track him, but his cellphone was found down the block from his house smashed to pieces. Emily shook her head, snapping around when one of the local officers caught her eye. 

“That can’t be good,” Y/N said, her hand grazing Jack’s as they looked on. “Herzfeld is dead.”

“How can you possibly know that?” Jack asked incredulously. “There is no way you could know that from all the way over here.”

“Sure there is,” Spencer smiled. “What is it, Y/N? How do you know?”

Swallowing hard, she realized she’d just opened herself for a chance to truly prove herself. Read body language. Prove she knew her behavior just as well as anyone else on the team. “Well, that’s Officer Giovanni,” she started. “As soon as we walked in, I noticed that he was sitting at Herzfeld’s desk. He sighed - heavily. My guess is that he was Herzfeld’s partner. Just before Agent Prentiss was called over, he was on the phone with someone and his face sank seconds after he answered, meaning he got bad news. Then when he hung up the phone, he looked back at the picture on Herzfeld’s desk; it’s a picture of his wife and son. He’s thinking of having to tell them that their husband and father are dead.”

Jack was impressed; he needed to study up on his body language. She was apparently very good at reading people. Did she know he had a thing for her? That he was jealous of his Uncle Spencer’s ability to work with her? His aunt turned around and locked eyes with Spencer and Luke, nodding just enough to convey what she needed. Y/N was right. Herzfeld was dead.

—–

“Herzfeld’s been found in a nearby river with the same rope and concrete attached to his body as the other victims,” Emily said as the five agents and five mentees walked into the conference room to discuss the situation away from the prying eyes of the members of the precinct.

“The river wasn’t deep at all, was it?” Y/N asked. If Herzfeld was the last living person that knew the unsub’s secret, he wouldn’t care to drive two hours away to dump the body. Through their investigation, he would’ve found out that the weights used on the first two victims didn’t work the way he expected. And if Herzfeld was the final piece then he’d just go with what he knew to get rid of him rather than tweak his method of disposal for future victims. “Our unsub is cocky and desperate.”

“What makes you say that?” JJ asked. “Don’t forget to justify your statements with facts.”

“Sorry,” she said. She didn’t just pull that out of nowhere. “Under the assumption that Herzfeld was the last living person who knew the unsub’s secret, getting rid of him the same way says two things. One, he’s cocky. He thinks we’re not going to be able to connect the concrete with him. If he thought that, he would’ve used a different kind of concrete or a completely different method of disposal as a forensic countermeasure, but he didn’t, so he’s also desperate, which makes sense if in fact Herzfeld is the final piece.”

Jack interjected, nudging Y/N slightly but playfully. She liked to talk a lot, but he was here to prove himself too. “We’re onto him. We know his disposal method, but he chose to do the exact same thing with Herzfeld, nearby, and in a river that is barely deep enough to cover a person who’s standing. He didn’t have the time to drive two hours. It needed to be done now.”

From the background, Agent Jones made a deduction as well, something that the senior members had already thought of. “The disposal method has to be symbolic too,” he said. “If the river where Herzfeld was dumped wasn’t deep enough for him, there was no need to weigh him down, but the unsub chose to anyway.”

“I’m still working on checking and cross-checking our lists,” Garcia said, coming out of the shadows along with Agent Holden. “We’re still going to be a while. There are way more rich men in this area than one might think. If they need help spending their money, I’m here for them.” Smith and Y/N sniggered in the background. Garcia was eccentric that’s for sure.

“And Herzfeld is being sent to the medical examiners’ office, so we’re not going to have any new information from there until tomorrow morning,” Luke said. “I guess that means we’re staying the night.”

Emily smiled. That meant that people needed to double up. There was no way the Bureau was going to pay for 10 separate hotel rooms. Not a chance. “Well, people are doubling up.” Immediately, Luke went over to Holden to save him from Garcia, which gave Jack the opportunity Luke could tell he wanted. 

“I call Emily!” Garcia screamed, running over and grabbing onto her arm.

“Spence is mine!” JJ called. 

So Emily and Garcia, Spencer and JJ, Luke and Holden, Smith and Jones decided to room together, which meant. “I guess that means that you’re stuck with me Brooks,” Y/N laughed.

“Okay, but are you going to talk incessantly or will I be able to get a word in?” he asked playfully, leaning away when she went to punch him on the shoulder.

“Watch it,” she said, going for his chest this time, “Or I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

This should be fun.


	5. No Such Thing As Coincidence

As the team made their way to the hotel they’d be staying in, Jack closed his eyes - pretended to be asleep, or just too tired to carry on conversations with the rest of the team. It was either that or focus on the fact that he’d be sleeping in the same room with a woman he could easily have dirty thoughts about if he was given more than a few free minutes to think. 

His Uncle Spencer was at his side and Luke was on the other. “Why aren’t you staying in the same room as Luke?” Jack whispered. “You fighting?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “We’re colluding to get you together with Y/N.” In his older years, he found himself enjoying playing matchmaker, and Luke was apparently always along for the ride. Plus, Holden looked like he needed to be saved from Garcia, so Luke came to the rescue. Spencer had been meaning to talk to JJ about their daughter anyway. She was starting to become a bratty pre-teen and he and Luke had no idea how to deal with a near-teenage girl.

“You sneaky…” he whispered again through gritted teeth. “I’m going to kill you. I’m on a case and now I have to behave myself and I don’t want to.”

Spencer smiled, attempting to shield his building laughter by looking out the window. “I know. That’s why it’s fun for me.”

“I am so telling my dad on you,” he muttered, scrunching his face up at his uncle. He was definitely going to have to get him back one day. 

“Oh I’m so scared,” Spencer laughed quietly as they flooded out of the car and toward the hotel for the night. “You and Y/N have fun now.”

“You’re a dead man.”

—–

After the arduous task of checking in with only one employee to help them, everyone made their way to their rooms. “Me first!” Jack screamed as he ran to the bathroom.

“Dammit, Jack! Whatever happened to ladies first.”

“Went out the window. I have to pee.”

He’d taken his go-bag in with him, so after he released his near-bursting bladder, he decided to get changed and brush his teeth.

“Motherfucker!”

The loud noise startled Jack causing the electric toothbrush to brush out of his face and spray all over the bathroom mirror. Goddamit. “What the hell was that?” he screamed from inside, toothpaste still staining his lips as he opened the bathroom door. “What happened?”

For the first time since he’d laid eyes on her, she looked embarrassed - smaller than her larger-than-life stature. “I forgot my pajamas,” she mumbled under her breath, not wanting to admit that her, of all people, had forgotten something.

Jack snorted, the toothpaste nearly spewing out of his mouth. “Oh, please say that again,” he chuckled. “A little louder this time.”

“I forgot my pajamas,” she repeated, sending a death glare his way that told him if she had to repeat herself again she was going to murder him, “Do you happen to have a sweatshirt or something I could borrow? If I have to sleep in work pants I am going to be one cranky motherfucker in the morning, and also I’ll be uncomfortable, so I’ll probably end up kicking you - a lot.”

As he tried to contain his laughter, and failed miserably, he brought his bag out from behind him and pulled out a sweatshirt; he always carried one. Now he had to not think about the fact that she’d be half naked, sleeping next to him, and wearing one of his favorite sweatshirts. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Now don’t come out until I have something on.”

Jack went back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth and tried desperately not to think about the fact that she was going to have underwear on underneath that sweatshirt - everything else was going to be bare skin against one of his two favorite sweatshirt. “Oh fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. “Can I come out now?”

“You’re good,” she called back. When he walked outside, his sweatshirt was barely covering her ass and she was sitting on the bed reading a chapter of a book. Her legs were a mile long and looked insanely smooth. God, this was going to be difficult. “Checkin out my legs there?” She hadn’t even looked up from her book.

Play it cool, Jack, he thought to himself. Don’t be too obvious and don’t be a bumbling idiot. “I might be…” he laughed, pulling up the covers and getting into bed. “You have a nickname you like to be called? Or you prefer Y/N?”

“My nicknames are Ripley and Kiddo. Take your pick.”

“Please tell me Ripley is because of Alien and Kiddo is The Bride from Kill Bill?” he said, clasping his hands together in front of his face. He too enjoyed the older movies from his father’s time as opposed to his own. “Please?”

She nodded her head. “I was telling Spencer that before because he asked if I had a nickname I liked. He’s decided on Kiddo.”

“Then I’ll call you Ripley,” he said, lying down for the night. “Enjoy my sweatshirt, Ripley.”

Finishing up her chapter, Y/N placed it on the side table, pulling the blankets up to cover herself almost completely. “I will. Thanks again, by the way. Try not to think about my legs too much, okay?” she winked. “They’ll probably keep you up all night.”

He smiled before turning over. She had no idea.

—–

While Y/N woke up completely and totally rested, smiling happily as she stretched her arms toward the ceiling, Jack woke up feeling like he’d been hit with a mach truck. He had tossed and turned all night long. As soon as she said not to think about her legs, that’s exactly where his mind went and then those thoughts traveled to different thoughts that kept him very hot and bothered for a majority of the night. His Uncle was a dead man.

Thankfully, through all of his tossing and turning, she hadn’t woken up. She could probably sleep through an atomic bomb. If she had woken up, he would’ve had a very difficult time explaining that the reason he couldn’t sleep was that he wanted to do dirty things to her.

“We’re meeting out in the lobby at 6, right?” she asked. It was 5 AM. Jack grunted in reply, unable to form a coherent thought so early in the morning. An hour later, when they walked outside to the lobby, he practically fell asleep standing up.

“You have a fun night?” Luke asked with a smirk. Oh, he didn’t know him that well, only that he was his uncle’s husband, but if the two of them had to go out by themselves again today, he was going to get an earful. He looked up and cut his eyes at his partner under half-lidded, sleep-heavy eyes. “Not the kind of fun you wanted, eh?”

“Oh, you and your husband are dead men,” Jack said, glancing between the two of them as Y/N went to talk to Smith. “So. Very. Dead.”

—–

“So we have no other information from Herzfeld’s autopsy?” Smith asked as Spencer and Y/N came back from medical examiner’s office. “Lovely.”

“It was only a cursory autopsy,” Spencer replied. “They’re going to keep looking. Once we have a suspect, we can send over DNA to see if they can match it with anything.”

“Agent Holden and I have come to save the day my pretties,” Garcia said, teetering over on her heels looking way to perky for someone who got next to no sleep. “We checked and cross-checked our lists of rich men in the area with the officers Cogswell, Heskett and as of last night, Herzfeld, and came up with two names, one of which matches the last name of a person Mrs. Herzfeld told as about, Kenneth Bohen, currently running for governor of the state and hails from Cedar Rapids, Iowa.”

She handed the files over to Emily, who began to rifle through them. “We’re going to have a tough time nailing this guy. He’s one of the richest men in the midwest, but…”

“He lost his brother 21 years ago, in what was classified as a freak construction accident,” JJ said. “That can’t be a coincidence.”


	6. Disobeying Orders

“Alright, Jack, Y/N, you’re going to switch out with Agent Holden, so he can get some field experience. You’ll stay here with Penelope and let us know if you can find anything else out. We need to talk to him right away.” Jack looked toward his aunt with a pleading look, like ‘please, don’t leave me here during the best part of the case,’ but he also didn’t want to fight or pull cards, so he sighed as he was left behind with Y/N and his Aunt Penelope. “Maybe we’ll get something else back from Herzfeld’s autopsy when they dig a little deeper.”

As the rest of the team turned to leave, Y/N spun around toward Garcia, eager to find some other information that might help them out; she hated feeling useless. “There any way we can dig deeper into what happened to Bohen’s brother?” she asked. “If we can figure out what happened. they’ll have a bit more to work with once he’s apprehended.”

“Come with me, my sweets,” she said, leading Y/N and Jack toward the back where she had her sweet setup going. “Welcome to my humble abode away from home. Let’s see what we can dig up.”

“Something dirty please,” Y/N laughed, pulling a chair up next to her and also bringing one along for Jack. “He lost his brother 21 years ago in a freak construction accident, but was it actually a construction accident or was he killed on the construction site?”

“Undoubtedly the latter because otherwise there would be no reason to cover things up,” Jack said. “Bring up the death certificate, please.” He didn’t dare ask if she could, because it was his Aunt Penelope - of course she could. “And the accident report.”

Garcia slapped away at the keyboard for a few seconds, pulling up both the accident report and the death certificate. “Bohen states in the report that he, his brother Dillon, Herzfeld, Cogswell and Heskett were walking past a construction site on Turner Avenue when a poorly piled toward of concrete bricks was knocked over, crushing his brother to death. The family ended up suing the construction company and receiving nearly $5 million in damages, which honestly didn’t make a dent in their fortune. They’re loaded.”

Jack scanned the document, looking for any inconsistency that might explain what actually happened, because it couldn’t have been that simple. “Okay, how the fuck did no one see that?” Y/N said, pointing to one of the pictures that had been taken at the scene. “In the background, look.”

Jack and Garcia peered at the photo until Jack realized what it was. “That is an insanely expensive bottle of Jack Daniels,” he said. “Much more expensive than most people in this town could afford. What if they were all drunk and something happened? Maybe they were screwing around on one of the machines and something went wrong? Now, how about the autopsy report.”

Pulling it up to the front of the screen, Y/N leapt across the pages, looking for something that might indicate a cover up. “This was absolutely a cover-up,” she said, shaking her head at the papers. “A family cover-up at that. Either that or the medical examiner was an absolute idiot.” She pointed toward the report, but Jack had very little medical knowledge, so he had no idea what she was seeing.

“What is it?”

“The way his bones were broken don’t indicate that the concrete blocks fell as he was walking away, which was what they claimed. The bones that sustained the most damage were on the front of his body, meaning that someone placed the concrete bricks on him to make it look like an accident,” she said, asking Garcia to click through the autopsy report. “I don’t have a ton of medical knowledge, but by the look of it, the bones that were broken make it seem like he was hit with the wrecking ball.”

Jack sighed, bringing his hand to his face as he pieced together what probably happened. The officers, Bohen and his younger brother were drinking at the construction site and were screwing around on the wrecking ball. In a drunken stupor, Bohen accidentally killed his brother, and the officers were witness to it. “Bohen and his family had money, the new officers didn’t,” Jack started, “So he tells his friends to help cover things up and its going to be fine. The officers agree because they’re all relatively new, taking care of young families, so they don’t want to risk losing their jobs. Then, when he met with the three officers recently, one or more of them expressed guilt about the whole thing, and Bohen couldn’t risk his burgeoning career, so he kills them to keep them quiet.”

“It makes sense,” Y/N said, pulling out her phone. “I’m gonna call Agent Prentiss.”

—-

“Okay,” Emily said, as the seven agents made their way to Bohen’s home. “Y/N just called and said that there were very expensive liquor bottles strewn about the crime scene. More than most could afford.”

“But not too much for Bohen,” Spencer said quickly. “This was all a drunken accident?”

Emily sighed, pulling into the gated area where Bohen, his wife and his children lived. “That’s what it looks like. She said the autopsy report makes it look like he was hit with a wrecking ball and the concrete bricks were placed on top of him. So either the medical examiner is also in on it or he’s incredibly stupid.”

“The family probably paid to keep him quiet, save their only son after the other was gone,” Luke said from the back of the car. “And the one or more of the officers grew a conscience.”

As they approached the house, the senior members instructed the candidates to stay behind them, but no one was home.

—-

Back at the station, a call came in and Officer Giovanni, Herzfeld’s former partner, answered, telling another officer of what happened within earshot of the two candidates. “We just got a call from Mrs. Dugan that her husband was taken away from just outside their home by a man with a gun. She couldn’t see who the man was.”

Y/N’s ears perked up. “We have to go with them,” she said, pulling Jack toward Giovanni.

“Why? Agent Prentiss told us to stay here.” Apparently, this Mr. Dugan had quite a great reputation in town from what Jack could see of the flustered officers.

“Because Dugan is the last name of the medical examiner that did Bohen’s brother’s autopsy. He’s since retired. Bohen took Dugan, Jack. Dr. Dugan is the only person alive who knows what happened that might open his mouth.”

“Oh fuck,” he said, running towards Officer Giovanni to tell him they’d be going with them. “I’ll call Agent Prentiss on the way.”

—-

The two young agents and the senior officer ran outside to the car as Jack dialed his Aunt. “Agent Prentiss, it’s Jack,” he said, the salutation sounding foreign to his ears - it was Aunt Emily, not Agent Prentiss. “The medical examiner that conducted Dillon Bohen’s autopsy has been taken from his home by an unidentified man with a gun. If he’s our unsub, than the medical examiner is the only person still alive that knows his secret.”

“Did they say what direction he went in?” Emily asked, the tires screeching loud enough to be heard through the phone as she turned the wheel.

They hadn’t. But the construction site was where he accidentally killed his own brother. And he was devolving fast, his arrogance making him make mistakes he should be smart enough not to make. “No, but I think he’s headed to the construction site.”

“We’ll meet you there,” she said. “Do not go in without us.”

As they hung up the phone, Jack told Officer Giovanni where to drive. The siren turned on and he stepped on the gas, speeding toward the construction site at nearly 90 miles an hour. In less than five minutes they were there. “Shit,” Y/N said, “He’s dragging Dugan in now.”

“And he sees us,” Jack panicked. The rest of the team wasn’t there yet. “If we wait, Dugan’s gonna die.” He looked in her direction. They both knew they should stay behind, but a man’s life was on the line. “Are you coming with me?”

Getting out of the car, she looked around. The rest of the team was still nowhere in sight. Dugan would be dead before they got here. “Yea, let’s go.”


	7. Time's Up

Both Jack and Y/N knew that running into the former construction site was a bad idea, both in terms of their opportunity to join the team, and in terms of their lives. But Dugan was a dead man walking if they didn’t go in now. If that cost Jack a chance with the team, then he’d take that risk, and he assumed, given that she was following him, Y/N was also willing to take that risk. Despite using his mother’s last name, his behavior reflected that of his father - his father’s voice in the back of his head. Do what’s right, not what’s easy. “This is such a bad idea,” Y/N whispered as they stood outside the door. “Identify yourself.”

Jack took a deep breath and yelled inside. “Jack Brooks, FBI!” he bellowed, the muscles in his arms bulging as he tightened his grip on the gun. He made eye contact with Y/N, motioning that he would head in first and she would cover him. “Bohen! Drop your weapon! It’s over!”

“It was an accident!” he screamed, pointing the gun at Jack and back at Dugan. “None of this was supposed to happen! All they had to do was keep their mouths shut! If they had just kept their fucking mouths shut this would’ve gone away! But they had to start feeling guilty.”

“Why should they have felt guilty?” Y/N asked. Bohen was desperate. There was no way this was going to go down without at least one round being shot. “They only witnessed it, didn’t they? You’re the one that killed him?” Although Jack didn’t think they were going to be able to calm him down, he wasn’t sure how this was going to go. “You’re the one that got drunk and fucked around on a wrecking ball thinking nothing would happen. You killed your own brother and then covered it up.”

“Shut up!” he screamed, his face red with rage as he pointed the gun in her direction. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jack training his gun as hard as he could, keeping a look out for some kind of shot. But no matter what move he made, Dugan was in the line of fire. “Shut up!”

“Please help me,” Dugan cried, trying to pull away and being yanked back so hard that a clump of his hair came out. “They paid me to keep quiet. They said they’d kill me.” Neither agent was surprised by that. Power and money went a long way - longer than it should have. 

Y/N didn’t have a good shot either. She needed to enrage him enough that he’d push Dugan out of the way to take a shot at one of them, preferably her considering this was her idea. “All that money and you don’t even have the common decency to own up to what you did for your brother’s sake. All you had to do was say it was an accident. A drunken accident. With your family’s money, you undoubtedly wouldn’t have served a day in jail anyway. But you didn’t…”

“Y/N,” Jack whispered out of the corner of his mouth. He could tell where she was going with this, and it was going to end in a bullet in her direction. “Instead, you had your parents cover it up. I saw your files. Your family came from nothing and made themselves what they are now through hard work. You just rode on their coattails. Told them you’d be a future president of the United States if they paid everyone off. It was an accident anyway, right? Your brother’s life obviously wasn’t worth that much to you, was it? Coward!”

“Enough!” he screamed. He swiped his arm to the side, pushing Dugan to the ground and pointing the gun in Y/N’s direction in a split second. Jack drew his weapon again, shooting it towards his right shoulder, his dominant side that was holding the gun, but not before Bohen got a shot off. A high-pitched scream sounded from his side as Y/N fell to the floor. When Bohen’s shoulder was hit, he dropped his gun, and Jack took a couple of steps forward, kicking it to the side just as his aunts and uncles came inside, guns drawn. 

“Y/N,” Jack breathed, coming to kneel at her side. “Are you okay?” He saw Y/N smile and allowed himself to breathe, with Spencer, Emily, JJ and Luke handcuffing Bohen and taking control of the scene.

“I’m fine, Jack,” she replied, reaching her hand across her body to her arm. “Just a flesh wound.” She had quick reflexes. As Bohen had aimed the gun, she ducked to the left so that the bullet grazed her arm. A couple of stitches and she’d be fine. No big deal. “You look worried about me, Jack.” He helped her up off the floor and out toward the ambulance. “Quit looking at me like that or I might get ideas, Brooks.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt. “I should’ve been quicker.”

“You were as quick as you could be,” she said earnestly. “I made the decision to piss him off because I knew it would get him to push Dugan out of the way. And I’d do it again.” As Y/N got stitched up in the ambulance, wincing slightly with each pull, Jack caught sight of his Aunt Emily. Sternly, she nodded. Oh, he was in trouble. He was in so much trouble. But he’d handle it. He did what he thought was right. “So how much trouble you think we’re in?” she asked, her eyes darting to the side in Emily’s direction. She must’ve been reading his mind. “You think we just cost ourselves a spot on the team?”

“Possibly,” he said. She shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but I’d do that again. He was going to die otherwise.”

Pulling her sleeve down over her freshly-bandaged wound, she hopped off the back of the ambulance. “Agreed. We’ll handle it, I guess.”

—–

After Y/N was checked out again at the hospital and Bohen was taken care of and placed into custody, they headed back to the plane. Originally, Y/N thought that they were going to get a talking to on the jet, but from the looks of it, Agent Prentiss was going to ream them out when they got back, which was just hours later. 

They walked into the BAU, with Smith, Jones and Holden being dismissed and thanked immediately. “Y/N, Jack,” Emily called. “I need to see you both before you leave.” 

“If this was our one and only case,” Jack started, “it was great to work with you. You’re a great agent.”

“Back at you.”

As they walked into Agent Prentiss’s office, Y/N took a deep breath. She didn’t want this to be her last case. She wanted this position more than anything, but she wasn’t going to feel badly about saving someone’s life; there was a distinct possibility that if they didn’t go in, Dugan would have died. “Do you realize how stupid that decision was?” she asked harshly. “You could’ve gotten yourselves killed.”

“I know, Agent Prentiss,” Y/N said.

“I know.” 

“What made you think that was a good decision?” she asked.

At first, neither said a thing. But Jack felt the need to explain himself. “Agent Prentiss. I am the one who suggested we go in. I believed, and still do, that if we had waited for you, Dugan would have died. If you want to punish someone for not following orders it should be me. Y/N followed in to back me up but it was not her decision.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. He meant well. And technically he was the one to suggest going in, but she could have convinced him otherwise. She chose not to. That was her decision. “Agent Prentiss, the fault is on both of us. I could have said no and I didn’t. I agreed with Mr. Hotchner here…” she said with a smirk, looking in his direction much to his surprise. 

Jack’s head snapped back toward Emily. “I didn’t say anything,” she said, turning her attention back to Y/N. 

“If we hadn’t gone in I truly believe Dugan would have died. I also made a decision to aggravate Bohen because I felt it was the only way he’d let Dugan go. Make him come after me instead. I don’t want this to ruin my opportunity for a chance on the team, but if it does, I understand. I stand by what I did, and frankly, I believe you would’ve done the same.” She never broke eye contact with Emily. Jack was pretty sure his aunt would have done the same thing, but he was surprised Y/N had had the balls to say it to her face. That was another thing he liked about Y/N - no bullshit.

“Same goes for me.” Jack added. “I’m sorry I disobeyed orders, but I’m not sorry I saved someone’s life.” With a nod in his aunt’s direction, he snapped his head to the side. “How did you know my last name was Hotchner? I didn’t tell anyone.”

Y/N smiled, asking permission of Emily to be dismissed. “Like my cooperating agent, Dr. Spencer Reid, I do my research, Agent Hotchner. It’s been a pleasure.” With that, she walked out of the office, once again thanking Emily for the opportunity.

“You can go now, Jack,” Emily said with a small smile. “I’m glad you’re okay. And if I were you, I wouldn’t let that one get away. I’ll be in touch.”

Well, she hadn’t outright said he lost his chance. Maybe his behavior reminded Emily of his father. Maybe he’d done enough otherwise to prove himself. As he walked out of the office, he watched as Y/N sauntered toward the elevator. There was something about her. Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Something secretive and yet open. She was a great agent, incredibly smart, funny, beautiful, and he found himself wanting to know more. 

Quickly, he ran toward his desk, grabbed his go-bag, and ran down the stairs to hopefully meet her as she got off the elevator. “Y/N,” he called, running full speed toward her car. “Question.”

“What’s up?” She smiled. 

He was so out of breath and hadn’t actually thought anything through, so instead of being smooth and sauve, he blurted something out - more gibberish than English. “Would you want to grab a drink with me sometime?” he said for a second time. “That’s what I was trying to say, but apparently when I see a pretty woman, I turn into a bumbling moron.”

“Most men do,” she giggled, her smile putting him at ease. “I’d like that. Maybe this weekend?”

“That sounds great,” he said, turning back in the direction of his car. “By the way…”

“Your secret is safe with me, Jack.”


	8. Getting to Know You

“So how did the case go?” Aaron asked as his son walked back through the door. “How do you think you did?”

That was a loaded question. “Well, we solved the case. Saved a man’s life, but I might have disobeyed orders to do so…so…I’m not sure.” Aaron sighed. There was no doubt Jack was his son. He wanted to reprimand him, but honestly, Hotch probably would’ve done the same thing back in the day. “Aunt Emily yelled at me, and one of the other candidates, Y/N. She came in with me and was shot. Grazed on the arm. She’s okay though.”

“You sure that you had to do what you did in order to save the man’s life?” Aaron asked. If Jack was sure, then his father trusted him. 

Jack nodded. “He was definitely going to die if we didn’t go in,” he sighed, “But I may have cost myself a spot on the team.” He’d done the right thing. If he lost the opportunity, at least he could take solace in knowing that.

“Well, as long as you did the right thing, I’m proud of you.” Aaron walked over to his son, clapping him on the back. “How were the other candidates? You think any of them are contenders?”

“All of them really,” he said. “I’d say Y/N, but she also may have cost herself a spot by following me.” 

When Jack said her name, Aaron noticed a look in his eyes - the same kind of look that he had when he’d first laid eyes on Hayley when they were in high school. “So, about this Y/N…” he said with a smile. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Maybe…” he said shyly. He wasn’t used to his father teasing him about girls. The last one he did that with was his high school girlfriend, Shaina. Actually, that was the only true girlfriend he’d had - a couple of flings in college, but Shaina was his only girlfriend. “Shut up,” he said, his father’s smile growing wider by the second. “I’m going out with her this weekend.”

“Can I meet her?” Aaron asked. He wasn’t actually serious. Not yet. But of course he’d like to meet her if it went anywhere. “I’m joking, Jack.” The look on Jack’s face was enough to send him into a fit of hysterics; it was a look of pure panic. “So Emily said you’re using your mother’s maiden name?” He wasn’t hurt at all; he understood. He just wondered why he hadn’t mentioned it.

Jack looked away quickly, as if he’d been caught in a lie. “Yea. You know how proud I am of you, Dad. How much I look up to you. Hell, you’re the reason I went into law enforcement, but I didn’t want anyone thinking that you helped to get me a spot as a candidate or on the team. Although Y/N knew.”

“How so?”

“She got paired up with Uncle Spencer,” he replied, laughing at the comparisons between the two. “She said, like him, she does her research, so she knew before we even started.” Although he said he’d take the consequences of disobeying orders, he still desperately wanted a spot on the team. “Knowing Aunt Emily, do you think I completely disqualified myself from a position on the team?”

Aaron shook his head. Emily would have done the same. Sometimes you just couldn’t wait for backup. Jack and Y/N had saved an innocent man; that was what mattered in the end. He’d done his job. “If I know Emily, and I’d like to think I do, you and Y/N will be getting a call very soon.”

—-

Two days later, Jack had firmed up plans with Y/N to go and grab a drink at a local bar. They decided to meet at the bar rather than have one of them pick the other up. 

When he walked in, his breath caught in his throat. At work, she had been professional, clad in a navy blue suit and lighter blue blouse, but now, she looked even more beautiful. With a pair of light-washed jeans, a white flowing tank top and black military jacket adorned with golden buttons, she looked the picture of the beautiful badass he’d come to know over the course of the case. Suddenly, he felt like a lot was at stake, so he took a deep breath and walked over to the table she’d grabbed for them. “Hey,” he said, sounding much cooler in his head than out and giving her a hug. She’d texted him while he was on his way and asked him what his favorite beer was. Anything Sam Adams was the answer. “How’ve you been the past couple of days?”

“Praying to the old gods and the new that Agent Prentiss calls me for an opening on the team,” she laughed, reaching across the table and handing him a beer. “First one’s on me. You can grab the next one.” 

Her Game of Thrones reference made him happy. It was on and off the air before he was allowed to watch it, but it was still one of the greatest shows he’d ever seen. “Same here,” he said without missing a beat. “Praying that we did the right thing. I mean, I know we did the right thing, but we also disobeyed orders and I don’t want it to backfire on us.”

“Us?” she asked, raising her eyebrow as she took a tip of her Blue Moon. “So you’re saying you’d like for the two of us to end up on the team?” She definitely knew how to make a man squirmy - her eyes reflected mischief.

He’d definitely enjoy that. He liked working with her; he might end up dating her. But even that brought up its challenges. If they did both make it onto the team, he’d worry about her getting hurt. After all, his mother had died because of a case his father was working on, but she was a grown woman and needed to make her own decisions. If they both earned a spot on the team, he’d do his best to protect her from harm and if he couldn’t, he’d know he’d done all he could. “Definitely. It would be nice to be working alongside a pretty and intelligent woman all day long - one that I don’t consider an Aunt anyway. Especially because if it was you and not someone else, I won’t have to find a way to break it to the other person that I’m a Hotchner.”

“You should be proud of that name,” she replied earnestly. “From what I’ve read, your dad is a hero among heroes.”

“He is,” Jack said proudly. “And I am. But I also didn’t want anyone else thinking that I got this job, or even just a spot as a candidate because of my name.”

She reached across the table, resting her hand on top of his. “I’d say you proved yourself.” A light blush crept across his face. Thankfully, the bar was dimly lit, because undoubtedly it wasn’t that light of a blush. He probably looked like a tomato. He grabbed her hand and entwined their fingers as he took a couple of steps toward her to stand at her side. Across the bar, Jack saw Henry, who’d only recently turned 21, and gave him a wave.

“Y/N, this is my friend, practically my cousin, Henry LaMontagne,” he said as Henry walked over. “Henry, this was my partner on the case, Y/F/N Y/L/N.” A look of recognition flashed across Y/N’s eyes. “You know who he is too, don’t you?”

“You must be JJ’s son,” she laughed. “It’s nice to meet you. Any friend of Jack’s is a friend of mine.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said, shaking her hand as he walked toward the bar with a couple of his friends. As he walked away, he turned around and slapped Jack on the shoulder. “Nice going, man.” He gave a subtle to him not-so-subtle to everyone else thumbs up as he left. 

After Jack bought their second round of drinks, Jack and Y/N went back to learning more about each other. Eventually, talk turned to school while they were growing up. “I was made fun of a lot in middle school and high school,” Y/N started, taking a long swig of her second Blue Moon.

“Really?” Jack asked surprised. “How?” He had know idea how people made fun of other people anyway, but there were certain people who definitely didn’t fit the mold at first glance and she was one of them. “Who made fun of you? I’ll kill them for you if you want.”

“My Prince Charming,” she said facetiously, throwing her head back with a laugh. “Not necessary, I promise. I was actually made fun of for my boobs, as well as being a smarty pants.”

Immediately, he looked down, not meaning to be a perv, but he didn’t understand. “What’s wrong with your boobs? Your boobs are fine?” he chuckled. Her intelligence was something he could understand to a degree. His Uncle Spencer had endured the same.

“I have pretty small boobs. The guys used to call me a surfboard. I played it off by saying surfboards are awesome, which they are. But all the guys liked girls with big boobs. They all said no one would ever want to go out with me,” she said. Her smile dropped. Apparently, although in the past, the statement still stung. “But whatever, fuck ‘em.”

“Exactly, and they were wrong,” he said, tipping his bottle in her direction. “I wanna date you. Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow? My treat?”

“Definitely,” she said, finishing off the last of her beer and placing the bottle on the table. A little apprehensively at first, she leaned into him, pressing her lips softly against his. He took a deep breath, deepening the kiss as he brought his hand into her hair. “If you’re paying for dinner tomorrow, how about one more beer on me and then maybe we can head outside and makeout like teenagers for a little bit.”

“That sounds like a plan to me,” he said quietly. “I didn’t do too much making out in high school, because I wasn’t there for that long.”

“Me either,” she laughed, bringing him toward the bar for a final beer. “We’ll make up for it.”


	9. Awaiting an Answer

Hotch watched as Jack paced the floor of the living room before his date with Y/N. He’d been waiting for a call from Emily for nearly two weeks. There was supposed to be a second round of cases for the top ten candidates to assist with, but Jack was getting antsy. The only thing keeping his mind off the possibility that he might not get chosen were his dates with Y/N. “She hasn’t gotten a call either?” Aaron asked as he sat down on the couch. 

“Nope,” he sighed. “What the hell am I gonna do if I don’t get a spot on this team? This is the only thing I’ve ever wanted, so I don’t even have a plan B. I’m fucked.” Jack slapped his hands to his face, falling backward onto the couch with a thud. 

Aaron laughed at his son’s foul mouth; he’d never been one to curse. That had always been Hayley. So Jack took after his mother in that regard. “You are a great agent and an intelligent young man.” He reassured his son. “If you don’t get this position, you will find something else that you love. It’s not like you’re not exceptionally qualified.” Aaron did his best to reassure him, but he also understood how badly Jack wanted this position. Emily would probably call soon. “Shouldn’t you get going to pick up Y/N?” he asked. It was a bit early, but it would allow Jack to get his mind off things. “And maybe one of these days, I can actually meet her.”

“Definitely,” he replied. “And maybe I will go a bit early. I need to stop perseverating.” As he made his way out the door, he shot a small wave toward his father. Pulling out his phone, he texted Y/N to tell her he’d be a few minutes early. 

Fantastic. I’m pacing my apartment trying to get my mind off the fact that I haven’t gotten a call yet, and it’s not working. See you soon. :)  
Within 15 minutes, Jack had arrived at Y/N’s apartment. They were going to be meeting up with Henry and his girlfriend from college, Alaina, and Michael, Henry’s younger brother, who was still in high school. “Does Michael have a girlfriend?” Y/N asked.

“Technically, yes,” Jack laughed. “But neither his parents nor her parents know that they are seeing each other. She’s 14 and he’s 16, so right now it’s really sweet and innocent, but her parents might not love that fact that she’s so young, so they are kind of sneaking around, with the help of Henry. The four of them will meet us there by the way.”

As Jack pulled away from the apartment complex, he asked the important question. The one that always put people on edge. “So…my father was wondering if he could meet you one of these days?”

“I’d love to,” she replied without missing a beat. “I have to see where you came from.” That was much easier than he thought. Maybe he’d show her some of the old pictures he had before his mother died. After all, if she wanted the full picture, she’d need photos. Unfortunately, they’d never have the chance to meet. “We’re going to the National Air and Space Museum right?”

“Yup,” he replied, turning the corner toward the museum, “should be there in a few minutes.” After they parked, they waited on the front steps for Henry and Michael. “Hey, Henry…Michael.” Jack extended his hand outward before introducing Michael to Y/N. 

“This is my girlfriend, Alaina,” Henry said. “And this is Michael’s girlfriend, Diana Alvez-Reid.” 

“Ohhhhh,” Y/N said with a smile, extending her hand out to the young girl. JJ’s son and Luke and Spencer’s daughter. No wonder they hadn’t said anything yet. “Nice to meet you, ladies. And you too Michael. Hi again, Henry.” 

As they walked inside, Jack paid for both of their tickets, while Henry and Alaina each paid for their own tickets. Michael however, had just gotten his first part-time job, so he proudly bought a ticket for himself and Diana. The two young lovebirds were almost too much to bear. “They look cute together,” Y/N said, as she grabbed Jack’s hand in her own.

“Not cuter than us,” he said, turning to the side and puckering up for a kiss. Nearly every other day for the past two weeks, Jack and taken her out on a date. They went out to dinner. They’d been to a movie. They’d been for a walk in the park. They’d just had coffee at a bookstore, and now, they were doing the museum.

“You two just can’t keep your hands off each other, can you?” Henry teased, slapping Jack on the shoulder as he and Alaina walked in front of them toward the Exploring the Planets exhibit. Y/N lifted her foot to kick Henry in the butt, but he ran away.

“Coward!”

While Henry, Michael, and their respective girlfriends walked around the exhibit, Y/N and Jack started talking about work. “I’m really hoping to get a call soon. At least have a second case to prove ourselves.”

“Me too,” he sighed. This wait was killing him. He was not a patient man. After a couple of hours walking around the museum, they’d been to a number of exhibits, including Sea-Air Operations, Modern Military and World War II Aviation, and Moving Beyond Earth. Their last stop before leaving for dinner was going to be Rockets and Missiles.

As they walked into the exhibit, Y/N felt a buzzing in her pocket. “Hello,” she greeted. “This is Y/N.”

“Hello, Y/N. This is Dr. Spencer Reid. How are you?” he asked. Y/N watched as Jack pulled out his phone. Her heart was practically pounding out of her chest. This could be awful, okay (in the event she was going to get called in for another case), or amazing.

Spencer’s voice didn’t betray too much, but it sounded positive to her ears. Maybe they were going to be called in for another case. “Not too bad, Spencer,” she replied, remembering that he allowed her to call him by his first name. “What can I help you with?” Please be a spot on the team, please be a spot on the team, please be a spot on the team…

“I was actually calling to let you know that after much consideration and deliberation, Agent Prentiss, myself and the other agents wanted to extend to you a spot on the team.”

She screeched, causing everyone in the exhibit to look in her direction. When she looked across at Jack, he also gave a thumbs up. They’d made it! “Oh my god,” she breathed, her voice catching in her throat. This is what she’d been working toward for years, and her hard work had finally paid off. “Thank you so much.”

“Welcome to the team, Y/N,” Spencer said proudly. “See you 8 o’clock on Monday morning.” She thanked him profusely before getting off the phone and looking at Jack. “You made it too? We made it?!”

He shook his head and she ran into his arms. Jack spun her around the exhibit before Henry realized what the hell was going on. “You both made it onto the team?” he asked.

“Yes!” Y/N said, pumping her fists in the air before taking Jack’s lips in a celebratory kiss. “To dinner! Where we celebrate with drinks!” 

Despite being the oldest two out of the six, Y/N and Jack jumped up and down whooping and hollering like children as they left the museum. “Oh my god,” he cried as they walked out and toward the car. “I’ve got to call my dad on the way.” They were going to meet Henry, Michael, Alaina and Diana at the restaurant. “Hey dad.” Jack had dialed the phone and put in on speaker so he could drive. 

“What’s up, kiddo? Having a good time?” 

“A great time,” he replied, barely able to contain his excitement. “Y/N said she’d love to meet you by the way.”

“Hello, Mr. Hotchner,” she said with a smile. “I look forward to meeting you.”

“You too, Y/N,” he spoke. “Jack talks a lot about you. But from the tone in your voice, Jack, I suspect you called to tell me something else.”

“I made it!” he screamed, blowing out Y/N’s eardrums as they pulled up to a red light. “Y/N did too! We got the two spots on the team.” She was laughing uncontrollably in the passenger’s seat.

“Congratulations,” Aaron said. He was never one to be very outwardly emotional, but Jack could sense in his father’s voice how proud he was, and he nearly cried. “I’ll let you two get back to your date. Talk to you later, Jack. And don’t drink and drive.”

“Yes, dad,” he huffed, turning into a teenage boy at the drop of a hat. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

By the time Y/N hung up the phone, they’d arrived at the restaurant, with their four companions showing up shortly after. “Table for six, please,” Y/N said as they approached the host. “I could cry.” She turned toward Jack, still hopping up and down. “I’m a member of the famous BAU. I get to work with Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid, and Penelope Garcia, and Jennifer Jareau, and Luke Alvez…I’ve been reading about them for practically a decade. I want to throw up, and cry, and scream, and hop around like a crazy person.”

“You look like a crazy person,” Henry laughed, causing his brother to snort behind him. “But congratulations.”

The six of them sat down and ordered drinks, beers for Y/N and Jack, and sodas or water for the rest of them. After placing their orders, Y/N leaned her head into Jack’s shoulder. “This has been such an amazing day,” she said. “I don’t want it to end. Do you wanna…come over to my place after dinner?”


	10. Not Taken Lightly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT chapter. Skip if you're not into that. Next chapter will be sans smut.

After the six of them finished up eating, Henry and Alaina took Michael and Diana home, dropping Diana off at the movie theater where she told her fathers’ she’d be at this point in the day. When they left, Y/N leaned into Jack’s chest and slipped her hand into his as they walked to his car and she began to put her address into the GPS. “I know it by heart now,” he said softly. 

The normally loud and boisterous woman he’d come to know over the course of the past month or so was uncommonly quiet. As he looked to his side, her saw her dreamily staring out the window. When they arrived at her apartment, he rushed to the side door, as he’d gotten used to doing, and opened the door for her, grabbing her hand as they made their way up the stairs to her place. He’d been to her apartment before, but it felt different this time. “You okay?” he asked as she slid the key into the lock. 

Without a word, she pushed the door open and slunk her hand around the side of his neck, taking his lips in her own as she walked back into the apartment. Jack pulled toward him by her waist, his hand resting just under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was heated to the touch. As she leaned backward into the wall, he pressed his body into hers, his tongue delving deeper into her mouth. 

Gently, she pulled away, the heat in her eyes apparent despite pulling from him. “I…”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling away immediately. “Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head and swallowed hard, removing her jacket as she walked toward the kitchen and pushed herself up onto the counter. “No,” she breathed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just figured there’s something you should know…”

He stood in place near the wall, wondering what was making her so anxious. “What is it?”

“I…I’m a virgin.” Well, that was a surprise. Both in the reality of it, and in the why did it matter way. “The last time I mentioned that to a guy I was dating, he decided he didn’t want that ‘responsibility’ and broke it off with me.”

“What the fuck?” he laughed. “So he was a dog, a fuckboy if you will, who didn’t want to be gentle, I’m assuming.” She shrugged, laughing at his attempt to be cool using a decades-old colloquialism for man whore. He was simultaneously cool and a giant dork - that’s one of the reasons she liked him so much. She’d never asked, instead just accepting it and moving on, waiting for the right person that cared enough. “It wouldn’t matter to me whether you had or you hadn’t, Y/N. I like you…a lot. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

She reached her hand out for him and he walked over, coming to stand between her splayed legs. “I do want to. I may not have done anything, but I know what to do,” she laughed. “I just haven’t bothered to do it just for the sake of it; I wanted to wait for someone who was worthy of how awesome I am.” There was the woman he knew.

Jack smiled, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “So, am I to assume that you think I’m worth your awesomeness?”

“Maybe.” She smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head, Hotchner.” When he leaned into her again, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pointed toward the back of the apartment where her bedroom was located. Although lean, Jack was deceptively strong, carrying her toward the bedroom with ease, as she pulled her top off and threw it in the hallway. 

Placing his hand in front of him, Jack opened the bedroom door while Y/N gently unfastened the buttons of his shirt. “I’ve been wondering what’s under all these shirts,” she laughed, grazing her hands along the muscles of his shoulders. He attempted to flex and ended up losing his grip, causing Y/N to fall to the bed. “Graceful!” She snorted so hard, she nearly lost her breath; she was exceptionally beautiful when she was laughing.

After removing his shirt, he came to hover above her, pulling her body up toward the top of the bed as he grazed his lips over her lace-clad breasts. Any man who didn’t know how to get off on small breasts did not have a vivid enough imagination in his opinion. She was beautiful and as he heard her whimper, the realization that she trusted him like this became much more surreal and heavy.

Y/N reached her hands down, combing them through his dirty brown hair and rubbing his temples as he allowed his fingers to slide underneath the material of her bra, pushing the lace up to expose already hardened peaks. “I’ve always had a thing for women with small breasts,” he said, smiling as he took her mouth in a sweet kiss. She laughed into his mouth as she pushed her body upward, attempting to get closer. The barrier of their jeans needed to go. 

When she reached down to undo his belt, he had the sudden realization that he needed a condom. Despite the decade, the tried and true carrier of the condom, his wallet, was sitting in his back pocket, so he grabbed it, removing the package from the folds before throwing it to the side. “I had some too,” she said. “But it’s nice to know you’re prepared.”

“Boy scouts,” he replied. 

She pushed up, bringing him to his knees in front of her so she could fully remove his belt as she kissed above the material of his jeans. Kissing up his chest, she came to kneel as well, pushing the denim down as he reached between them to do the same for her. “Just so you know, I won’t make you regret letting me be your first.” He needed her to know that he didn’t take this lightly.

“I trust you,” she said, sucking in her bottom lip and pressing a kiss against his neck. After removing his jeans and leaning her back onto the pillow, Jack peeled her jeans and panties down, kissing back up her legs as he threw the items of clothing behind him and off the bed. Another slight whimper escaped her as he pressed his lips to her center. He’d been with a couple women before, so he knew enough to realize that whimper was a good one. 

He grunted in return, the sweet taste of her washing over him as he reached for the condom and continued to lick and suck at her folds. Once he had her legs trembling in his hands, he slipped on the condom and pressed himself at her center. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, biting her lip as he entered her slowly. It took every amount of strength he had to be careful, but he didn’t want to hurt her. After the initial sting, she wanted more, grabbing his ass to pull him further into her. Her legs wrapped around his waist once again, causing her walls to tighten around him. “Oh. Fuck…Jack.”

Slowly, he began to move inside her, bringing his hand to the side of her face as he took her lips in a passionate kiss, connecting them on every level. When she pulled at his hair to bring him down to her neck, he grunted, the sweet sting of hair-pulling resonating through him. He could tell she was close, her walls tightening around his length with increasing pressure. “Oh god, Y/N,” he breathed, the sweat falling off his brow and onto her chest. His tongue tasted the sweetness of her skin as she moaned into his ear, her legs shaking at the intense mix of emotion and sensation. 

After another few strokes, he fell over the edge himself, burying his head in her neck as he breathed her name. Now covered in sweat from keeping himself poised above her for so long, he allowed himself to fall to her side, their lips clashing in need. “How are you?” he asked, looking at her blushed skin under half-lidded eyes.

She giggled, her tongue pushing out passed her lips as she bit down on his bottom lip. “I’m good…great…awesome,” she smiled. “Maybe stupid question…do you plan on staying the night?”

“As if I would leave such a beautiful woman in such a vulnerable state,” he laughed. “If you’d like me to stay, I definitely will.”

“Good,” she said, turning her back into his body and reached back for his neck. “We have a whole weekend ahead of us before work on Monday.”

That’s right. They were both accepted to the BAU. They had jobs to go to on Monday. This whole thing - their relationship, this job…it was going to be an interesting ride to say the least.


	11. Welcome to the Family

Jack and Y/N had had an amazing weekend together, but it had gone by too quickly. Soon enough, it was Monday morning and they were on their way to work. They decided that they’d carpool, with each of them driving every other day. “Is it weird that when we were just candidates I wasn’t nervous, but now that we have the job, I wanna vomit?” Y/N asked, taking a nibble of her granola bar. She desperately needed something to sop up the acid that was building in her stomach. “What if I fuck up again? And then they wanna fire me? Then I’ll have had a taste of the job and I won’t be able to do anything else, and…”

“Breathe, babe,” he said, taking his right hand off the steering wheel and placing it on her shoulder. That was the first time he’d called her babe. “If we still managed to get the spots on the team despite disobeying orders, I think we’re going to be okay. We can’t just do anything blatantly awful and I think we’ll be fine.”

“So, the two of us having sex in the elevator would be a no-no?” she laughed, a light coming to her eyes that made Jack’s mind immediately imagine some sexy times in the elevator. “Get it out of your head, Hotchner.”

“You put it in there to begin with!” he exclaimed, taking his hands off the steering wheel. They literally hadn’t left her bed all weekend, so his mind was still foggy and easily distracted. “You can’t just talk about sex in an elevator, especially after this weekend, and expect me not to think about it.”

Her snorting laugh warmed his heart as he drove into the garage and parked the car. “Alright, get out of my head, thoughts,” he said, playfully smacking himself in the face. “Time to act like a professional.”

“You think people are going to find it weird that we are walking in at the exact same time?” Y/N asked as they made their way into the elevator. 

Jack knew better than to care. Even as he was growing up, he was well aware that the members of his team (woah, his team) were notorious for assuming that people were together whether they were or not. Why bother hiding it? He liked her too much to deny it anyway. “They’re going to assume,” he said. “But I’ve known them forever and they will no matter what we do. Plus, in this case, their assumptions would be correct.”

“That’s right,” she said surprised, as if just now realizing that Jack knew all of the members of the team fairly well, if not very well. “They’re all aunts and uncles to you, aren’t they?”

“Basically,” he laughed. He’d been calling them aunts and uncle ever since he could remember. “The only one I don’t call uncle is Luke because I didn’t grow up with him. I just know him as Spencer’s husband and a great agent.” 

As they left the elevator, Agent Prentiss and the rest of the team were there to congratulate them. Immediately, Jack stepped forward, giving each of his aunts and uncles a hug. “Thank you for believing in me,” he said seriously. All weekend, he and Y/N had been in a state of bliss, so Jack had a near-permanent smile on his face, but in front of those he loved, realizing that they gave him the position because he’d earned it, his face turned more professional, confident, and grateful. 

“You earned it, Baby Hotch,” Penelope said, grabbing Jack’s face in her hands and placing a kiss on his cheek. “I promise I won’t ever do that if I’m in the field with you. And welcome to the family.” 

Y/N could barely contain her joy at watching Jack get doted on by the team, which was now hers too - and a second family. “Baby Hotch,” she sighed, the smile on her face practically plastered there. “Can I call you Baby Hotch, please?”

“Absolutely not,” he said, turning around and pointing toward her. “I can’t control them, but you-”

“You think you can control me?” she asked, sauntering over to him and putting her hand on his shoulder. 

“That’s not what I meant. I just meant-”

Emily turned Jack’s face toward her. “Stop while you’re ahead,” she said as she patted him on the back of the head. 

Y/N put her arm through Jack’s as they walked into the bullpen. Apparently, the five senior members had put together a little celebration with cake and balloons. They didn’t have a case yet. “So you think you can control me,” she said again. “You’re doomed if you think that.” 

“I absolutely, 100 percent, do not think I can control you. I’d never want to. I mean-”

Spencer had been walking behind the two of them, but hurriedly walked past Jack, doing the very-outdated-but-Spencer-didn’t-care sneeze talk. “Abort mission, Jack,” he said unconvincingly. “You’ll never dig yourself out of this. Let it go.”

“I’d take your uncle’s advice,” Y/N giggled, leaning up and kissing Jack on the cheek. 

While Spencer laughed, remembering the days when he’d been just as naive, Jack cut his eyes at his uncle. “How does it feel to be the least cool person in the world, Uncle Spencer? The sneeze-talk? So outdated.”

“That’s the great thing about approaching 50,” he said, slapping Jack on the shoulder with both hands. “I don’t have to care. Plus, it’s kind of fun to embarrass my daughter with it.”

When they reached the conference room, the team welcomed them officially, passing both Jack and Y/N a slice of cake and laying down the rules. Jack was obviously not to call his aunts and uncles by anything other than their first names out in the field. Y/N and Jack had to not make it obvious that they were dating, especially in front of the section chief and the director if she ever made her way into the building. “So Baby Hotch,” Y/N said facetiously. 

Jack’s head fell to the table, knocking repeatedly against the wood, while the rest of the team laughed. “I won’t call you Baby Hotch,” she said. “You’re Jack or Hotchner to me.”

“Oh thank god,” he said, taking another bite of his cake and putting the next on the fork. “I can only have so many people call me Baby Hotch…” He pointed toward Penelope and Emily, “…or Mini Hotch.” Apparently, Spencer and JJ called him that. “Luke is the only one that will call me Jack.”

“Only because you didn’t grow up with me,” Luke said, laughing as he stuffed a bite of food in his mouth. As Y/N turned to say something to Luke, Jack placed his finger on the fork, pulling it back so he could launch the cake in Y/N’s direction. He meant to hit just in front of her - on the table - but when he let it go, Y/N turned back toward him and it hit her square in the face.

Her mouth dropped open while the rest of the team gasped. “You are so dead, Hotchner.”

“Please don’t kill me,” he said, pushing away from the table. “I like you a lot. Don’t hurt me.” 

The rest of the morning consisted of talking and celebrating the new additions. Although both were eager to get to work, they were also thankful for the opportunity to spend some quality time, for Jack, and to get to know the teammates, for Y/N. 

After lunch, which consisted of everyone going out for pizza, Luke and Spencer started to initiate Jack and Y/N into the riveting world of paperwork. Since they had no case yet, Emily decided they should get a jump on learning about the paperwork they would need to fill out after each case, depending on how the case went. By the end of the day, the new recruits were in a coma, having been put to sleep by the extreme boredom that was paperwork. 

Another few days went by before they had a case close to home. “Maybe this weekend I can meet your dad?” Y/N asked, as she drove them into work that morning.

“I’m sure he’d like that,” Jack replied. He really liked Y/N. He wanted her to meet his father, but that didn’t stop his stomach from turning at the prospect of having the woman he liked meet his larger-than-life father.


	12. Expose The Monsters

The next few weeks went by with very little to do. The team had a couple of cases, but all were very small in scope, needing only a couple of agents to liaise with nearby law enforcement. Good thing for Y/N and Jack, because they were able to get a lot of small-scale experience in a short amount of time. 

It had also been weeks since Y/N said she’d like to meet Jack’s father, and although he knew his father would like Y/N and vice versa, there was still a nervousness in the pit of his stomach about the whole situation. “I’m still coming over tonight to meet your dad, right?” Y/N asked, knowing that for some reason he found this whole thing nerve-wracking. “I don’t want to yet if it’s gonna make you uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m fine,” he said, packing up his bag before the end of the day. They both had a lot of paperwork from their last liaising assignment and Emily had allowed them to take it home. “I’ve been thinking about why the whole thing makes me want to vomit and I think I figured it out.”

“Really?” she asked, impressed that he was actually reflecting on why this was bothering him the way it was. “What is it?”

“I think it’s because, although I’ve had a girlfriend before and a couple of…flings…”

“Manwhore,” she sneeze talked.

“Bite me, babe,” he laughed. “Although I’ve had experiences with women before, none of them have ever met my dad in an official capacity, and even if they had, I feel like this is the first time it actually matters to me.”

She aww-ed in his direction, her eyes softening as she planted a sweet kiss on his lips in the middle of the BAU. Spencer and Emily walked by when it happened, both sticking their fingers down their throats. “Shut up!” the two lovebirds said as they waved goodbye. 

“Good luck, Y/N,” Spencer called. Over the past weeks, she’d confided in him that she was nervous about meeting Aaron. She wanted him to like her and felt like maybe she wouldn’t make a good first impression. Although nearly a decade older than his actual daughter, Y/N had kind of adopted Spencer as her BAU dad, going to him with any questions she had that she couldn’t ask her own father. After much panicking, Spencer assured her that as long as she was herself, Aaron would love her - and she trusted that, because well, he knew Aaron better than most.

“Thanks, Spencer,” she called as the elevator closed. “I told him I was nervous about meeting your dad.”

“He’s going to love you, Y/N. I promise.” He pulled her into his chest, kissing the top of her head before leaving the elevator and walking toward the car. Before they left the officer, Y/N changed her top, going from professional to a little more comfortable and meeting-the-dad worthy. 

When Jack walked on the door, both became jittery, but the second Aaron opened the door, his hair singed and smoking with heat, all tension was lost. “What happened?” Jack laughed, grabbing the end of his father’s hair to put out the flame. “Did you try to cook again?”

“I tried,” he said, the room behind him filled with smoke. “I wanted to try and make something nice when you came over, but I did something wrong and the stove practically exploded, so I just ordered pizza.” 

Any tension Y/N felt was immediately replaced with the overwhelming need to laugh. “Oh my god,” she said, bringing her hands up to her mouth, waving the smoke out of her face, “Mr. Hotchner, it’s very nice to meet you, and I am more than fine with pizza. Can I ask though, what did you try and cook?”

Aaron ushered the kids in and Jack took a seat while Y/N walked over to the stove to see what it was that Jack’s father had attempted to make. “I’m assuming that was supposed to be a casserole of some kind?” she asked, stifling a giggle as Aaron ripped off the oven mitts and placed them on the counter. “Can I see the recipe?”

As he pulled it up on the computer, she snorted. “The reason it burned was because you didn’t preheat it correctly. It was supposed to be on 350 degrees, not 450.”

“Dammit! I was never meant to cook.”

“So do I get to get a word in, or should I just leave you two to talk all night?” Jack laughed. 

While the three of them walked into the living room to wait for the pizza to arrive, Aaron turned on the fan, sucking out the scent of his failed attempt at cooking. “Well, not exactly the first impression I wanted to make, but whatever,” he laughed, extending his hand toward Y/N. “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Y/N, but please call me, Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she said as she sat down. “Question, if you’re such a bad cook-”

“My aunt Jessica,” Jack said, finishing her thought. “Without her, I’m pretty sure both of us would’ve starved to death.”

“Without a shadow of a doubt,” Aaron laughed. While Y/N began to tell Jack’s father all about her schooling and her family, the pizza came, so Jack got up to get it before passing out plates for everyone. 

“So, Y/N, what made you want to join the Bureau?” Aaron asked, piquing Jack’s attention. Despite their time together, that hadn’t come up yet.

She hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure how to go about answering the question. “Umm, nothing in particular - not personally anyway,” she said. “But I grew up in a nice neighborhood with a nice family. We were well-off and everyone in the neighborhood just seemed picture perfect. One day, I guess I was about 13…I was picking out colleges at the time, so yea, I was 13, and I heard a bang on the door at the next door neighbor’s house. There was a a group of agents, I assume they were agents because they weren’t dressed like cops, and they ushered the father out. I found out a couple of days later that he had killed a child about 10 years earlier as was also molesting his 10-year-old son. He just seemed so normal. I guess it was then that I wanted to see if I could see past the walls people put up and catch them. Expose the monsters.” 

Jack would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t grown up as the child of a famous BAU agent. Hell, he’d lost his mother to a notorious serial killer. “I think that’s as good a reason as any,” Jack said, raising his red solo cup, so the three could toast to exposing the dregs of society for all to see.

After they finished their pizza, Aaron mentioned a cake he got from the grocery store. He wanted to have something for dessert and knew that he was a lousy cook, and an even lousier baker. “I’ll grab it,” Y/N said, getting up and cutting up a couple of slices to take outside. 

Quietly, she snuck up behind Jack, giving Aaron the finger to the lips. 

Smush.

“I am going to kill you,” Jack said, the cake covering his entire face. “This is a delicious cake though.” When he turned around, he saw that Y/N had another plate with another slice of cake, so he knocked it out of her hand, grabbed the piece of cake in one hand and ran after. “Turnabout’s fair play!” Aaron couldn’t contain himself as his son ran after his girlfriend with a slice of cake in his hands. Once he caught her, he wrapped his hand around her midsection and pulled her back, shoving the cake into her face with the other hand. 

“Oh, this is good cake,” she laughed, playful kicking Jack in the shin. “Good pick, Aaron.” They got washed up and came back outside to sit on the couch as Aaron told Y/N that she was welcome any time.

“Is that my phone?” Jack asked, bringing their attention to the muffled ringing coming from the floor. All of a sudden, Y/N’s ringtone also sounded. Spencer and Emily were calling.

Aaron sighed. “I know that sound. You have a case, don’t you?”

“Yea,” she said, picking up her bag and placing it over her shoulder. “From the sound of it, it’s going to be a bad one, too.”

Y/N extended her hand, but Aaron pulled her in for a hug before giving Jack one as well. “Good luck, you two,” he said. “Stay safe.”

“Thanks, dad,” Jack said as they turned to leave. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

—-

“We have a case?” Y/N asked as they walked in.

Spencer looked apologetic. “Sorry to ruin your night.”

“Well unfortunately, unsubs don’t have any courtesy for our schedules,” Jack said as everyone sat down. “What do we have?”

As she had countless times before, his Aunt Penelope clicked the remote to turn on the TV her, refusing to turn around and look at the mutilated bodies of three young boys. “Xavier Mandell, Justin Misconi, and Diego Acevedo were found in three different areas around the Albuquerque, New Mexico area within the past three weeks. Based on their autopsies, Xavier died three weeks ago, Justin two weeks ago, and Diego just last week. They were found far enough apart that the police didn’t link the cases until now.”

“So unless we get on the ground ASAP, another boy is about to be killed,” JJ said, her voice cracking at the thought. Although grown men now, Henry and Michael were still her babies and she couldn’t bear the thought of someone hurting them. It was cases like these that simultaneously tore her down and gave her strength. 

Emily sighed, looking over the files before standing up from the table. “We can go over all of this on the jet. Wheels up.”


	13. Three Blind Mice

The tension on the jet was high as they rose up into the air. Three children had died in three weeks, and it was very likely that a fourth had already been taken or was going to be taken in a matter of days. The most cowardly of unsubs in the eyes of most - the child killer - always had the team on high alert, but it was the first time that Jack and Y/N were experiencing such a heavy case. For lack of a better word, their cases so far had been child’s play compared to this.

“How long until we get there?” she asked Emily, looking at the window intently, as if looking toward the ground would get her there faster. “We needed to be there like yesterday, last week…Dammit.”

Emily understood. She’d been in that exact frame of mind so many times before, but keeping on that train of thought did more harm than good for the victims. “I totally understand,” she said, placing her hand over Y/N’s. “Just keep your head on straight and let’s catch this guy.” Y/N nodded, knowing that Emily was right. It was much harder to do than to say, though. 

As she stood up, everyone’s attitude changed from tension-filled to determined as she spoke. “These types of cases are always the hardest, but let’s get this done,” she said. “Let’s go over victimology. Jack, why don’t you and Y/N start.” As long as their insights were correct during the course of this case, Emily would be comfortable fully incorporating every member of the team into victimology talks next time. For now, she still wanted to test the new recruits.

Jack pulled up his files on the three children, scanning their information again before answering. “Obviously race isn’t an issue for him.” He started. “Xavier is African American, Justin is Caucasian, and Diego is Hispanic. But they are all between the ages of 7 and 10, so our unsub has a type.”

While Jack began, Y/N looked over the locations where the boys were found. “Our unsub is criminally sophisticated,” she said confidently. “Xavier was found at one end of Albuquerque, Justin was found at the complete opposite end and Diego was found just outside their jurisdiction. I don’t think Spencer’s geographical profiling is going to help so much in this case, because it seems to me that he’s dumping the bodies in opposing areas to throw of suspicion as a forensic countermeasure.”

“Unfortunately, you’re probably right,” Spencer replied, rubbing the pain out of his eyes. Child cases had always hit the team harder than other cases, but since he, Luke and JJ had children, these types of cases took on a whole other meaning; each child was their own.

JJ was standing, her nervous energy not allowing her to get comfortable on the jet. “What can you tell us about the autopsies?” 

“Well,” Y/N said, taking a quick glance at the autopsy reports, “All three boys died of blunt force trauma to the head and subsequent mutilation to the genital area.”

“But the trauma to the genitals wasn’t sexual in nature,” Jack said, noting that the damage to that area also seemed to be from blunt force. “I would imagine, being that he is criminally-sophisticated, he has been incarcerated before for some kind of sexual crime, and he did do something to these boys, so damaging the genitals was both a forensic countermeasure, so that we can’t match his signature, as well as an additional sexual release.”

For a moment, Emily had tuned out, sticking her head in her phone and relying on the other senior members to make sure Jack and Y/N were on the right track. “When we get there,” she said, “Y/N, I want you and Spencer to take a look at the pieces of paper that were found near or on each boy when they died. The locals are stumped.”

“What did they find?” Luke asked confused. This was the first time any of them had heard anything about a piece of paper being found with the bodies. Apparently, that’s what Emily’s text message had been about. “Something was written on them, I assume, if you’re asking Spencer and Y/N to take a look.” They were the linguistics experts after all.

“Take a look,” Emily said, ushering Spencer and Y/N together so they could see the pictures on her phone.

“Why the fuck do people have to be so creepy? This is gonna suck,” she sighed, nodding knowingly in Spencer’s direction. 

“What is it?” JJ asked. 

Spencer went through the three pictures again, ensuring he was right. “Each boy was left with a different nursery rhyme, Xavier was left with Three Blind Mice, Justin was Rock-a-bye Baby, and Diego was Ring around the Rosie.”

“What’s the significance of each of those?” Emily and Luke asked simultaneously. 

“All of them have very somber backstories. It might be something as simple as wanting to leave something with the boys to make the whole thing more unsettling, the specific ones that were left with each boy could have significance to the victims or to the unsub. It’s probably too early to tell,” Y/N said, feeling a gnawing begin in the pit of her stomach. 

As Y/N was talking, Emily patched in Garcia so she could give any information she had. “Garcia,” Y/N said, turning around to face the screen. “I have a theory, but I need more information on all three boys, medical backgrounds, family backgrounds, the whole nine. Xavier had fresh and old burn marks on his body. The fresh ones were probably inflicted by the unsub, but the older ones could have been from someone else. The nursery left with him, Three Blind Mice, is about Queen Mary I, she’s the ‘farmer’s wife.’ The three mice are supposed to represent three noblemen who didn’t appreciate Mary implementing Catholicism throughout England. She was convinced they were plotting against her. Instead of chopping of their tails, she burned them at the stake.”

JJ looked confused. “So you’re saying that each boy might have a nursery rhyme specifically picked for him?”

“Yea,” she replied, her hands waving around wildly as she spoke. “The connection can be strong or tenuous, but it obviously only needs to make sense in his mind. If I’m right, the burning is the connection for Xavier. Finding out more about the boys’ backgrounds will give us insight as to whether or not the unsub is specifically picking these pieces for each boy or it’s something less significant than that.”

While Y/N had been talking, Jack looked on in awe. “You’re so smart,” he said, his face forming the first smile anyone had seen since takeoff. “Geeking out about nursery rhymes.”

“Down boy,” Spencer chuckled. “I know we interrupted a date and everything but..”

Jack looked a bit disturbed. “She was meeting my father, believe me, there was nothing of that kind happening tonight.”

“Oh god,” Y/N said as she screwed up her face, “In the house with his father? No. My apartment for that.”

Thankfully, that little foray into Y/N’s life with Jack, whether too much information or not, seemed to be just the thing to get everyone’s heads out of the misery that would soon surround them when they got on the ground. Spencer still hadn’t let the whole geeking out thing go either. “And didn’t you know it’s the Age of the Geek?”

Y/N stood up, reaching across Jack and JJ to high five Spencer. “It is forever the age of the geek,” she said, smirking in Jack’s general direction, the devious smile making Jack momentarily let his mind delve into dirty territory.

“Okay, children, calm your hormones,” Garcia said from the comfort of her enclosed and colorful office. “Once I sever our internet connection, because you know our personal connection could never be broken, I will look up some more information for you. But I can tell you that all three boys have three things in common, location-wise anyway. They all attend the same local public school, they all participate in the same after school activity, soccer, run by the school’s gym teacher, Jason Brandeis, and at the end of the day, they all go home to St. Anthony’s Orphanage.”

Y/N swallowed hard at the new onslaught of information. When she looked at Jack, she could see he was just as disturbed, as was the rest of the team - this was going to be a bad case. “So on top of the abuse they suffered, they were all orphans…fuck, this is not okay.” Jack reached across the seat to grab her hand, anchoring her as her mind shot in seventeen different directions. 

As the plane started to descend, no one said a word, all too disturbed to think of anything that might make this better. Instead, they all used the silence to compose themselves. Once they got on the ground, they needed to hit the ground running. There was no doubt that if their heads weren’t in the game, another boy was going to die.


	14. Rock-A-Bye Rosie

Everyone had been so wrapped up in the barbaric nature of this case that Emily had forgotten to dole out assignments, so as they departed the jet and headed toward their transportation to the local station, she doled out work. “Okay, so Y/N and Spencer, you’re going to come back to stay at the station with me. We’ll work on the profiles and the two of you can study the nursery rhymes. Alvez, I want you to go to Xavier’s dump site, JJ to Justin’s and Jack to Diego’s. Jack when you leave there, you can head to the medical examiner’s office and see what information you can gather from the autopsies.”

After being ushered to the station, Jack, Luke and JJ grabbed a local escort to accompany them to their respective assignments. “What kind of person would do this?” Officer Josephine Ramirez asked as she walked out towards her squad car. “I mean, I’ve come across some shit in my time, but leaving nursery rhymes next to dead children…”

“Whoever this is, is a sick individual,” Jack said, feeling as if it was a totally inadequate statement. The fact was, he couldn’t really understand what kind of person would do something like this, but he was determined to find out. “How far away was Diego found?”

As they both hopped into the front seats of the car, Officer Ramirez told Jack that Diego was the only one of the three that was found outside their jurisdiction, but it was only about 10 minutes from where they were. “Here we are,” she said, taking him into a field where a group of migrant workers had found him. “Are you going to want to interview any of them?”

“Likely not,” Jack said, shaking his head as the walked into the middle of the field. “The person that did this is trying to throw off suspicion by placing these boys all over the area, a migrant worker wouldn’t dump a boy where he worked. It’s too close to home.” As he looked around to the open area, he tried to get inside this guy’s mind. Why would he leave him so out in the open? Granted the fields were somewhat high, but the unsub would have to walk out in the open and risk being seen in order to place him here. “He needed to bring him here. Maybe all of the dump sites aren’t just a thing of convenience, but they mean something to either him or the children.”

“How so?” Ramirez asked. “You mean maybe he’s from around here?”

“I think it’s going to be more about the boys than him,” Jack said, putting together some pieces in his head as the wind floated gently across the field. “If it was about him, he’d put them in the same area. My guess is that either Diego, or his parents, were from around here. The police report said that he was found lying with his back on the ground and his arms over his chest?” She nodded, unsure of where Jack’s brain was at. “He cared for them.” Ramirez looked disgusted by the thought. “In his own way, he did. He would’ve just dumped them without any regard for presentation if it was only about filling a need on his part. He is fulfilling a need to some degree, based on the sexual abuse they undoubtedly suffered, but they were taken care of in death, and at least in Diego’s case, placed in an area that Diego was probably familiar with.”

Both Jack and Ramirez looked around for another couple of minutes, but given the openness of the area and the fact that it had been a couple of days, there wasn’t any evidence left. “We need to stop by the ME’s on the way back to the station,” Jack said, doing his best to convince Ramirez that they were going to catch this guy. “I’m new to the team, as is Agent Y/L/N, but we are trained to do what we do, and the other five members of the team have been doing this for decades. We’ll find him.”

“I hope so,” she replied somberly. “The kids in this town aren’t stupid, but they are scared.” 

—-

While Jack examined Diego’s dump site, Luke and JJ had gone to opposite ends of Albuquerque to inspect the areas where Xavier and Justin were left. After a short look around, JJ called Luke to see where he was at in his findings. “What have you got over there?”

“Xavier was found in a highly-populated area,” he started. “Given his use of forensic countermeasures, bringing them to this kind of area is a big risk, so the payout has to be equal.” While Diego had been found in a field just outside Albuquerque, Xavier had been found outside his old nursery school, which was right at the edge of town, surrounded by numerous government buildings. The unsub could have been caught at any time. 

JJ had noticed the same thing about Justin’s dump site, a bowling alley at the opposite side of town from Xavier. They hadn’t checked in with Jack yet, but it seemed that the boys were being left in specific spots in public areas, so there was a specific reason for dumping them. “If we can figure out why the unsub was so determined to dump them where he did, we’ll probably be able to narrow down who he is. Once we have our list of suspects that is. How was Xavier found? Did you read the report yet? Because Justin had his arms crossed over his chest.”

“Same with Xavier,” Luke replied, sighing heavily. When it came to unsubs, the ones that acted like they “cared” tended to be even more dangerous than others. “You done over there?”

“Yea, headed back to the station now,” she said as she walked back to the squad car.

Luke could sense the strain in her voice. Anything involving kids, especially young boys, always hit her hard. “We’re gonna find this guy, JJ.” He didn’t have a son, but he had a daughter, and the thought of Diana ending up like this made his heart burn with rage. “I’ll meet you back at the station.”

—-

“Garcia is looking up some background information on the three boys,” Emily said as she walked back into the station’s conference room. “What have you two found?”

“Honestly without some additional information on Xavier, Justin and Diego, everything we have is strictly conjecture,” Spencer replied, his eyes scanning the three pieces of paper over and over again until he felt like his gaze was boring through them, incinerating them in front of his eyes. 

“Just give me something, guys,” she replied, sitting down at the table next to them. “Y/N, you’re the English lit expert, what can you tell us about the other two nursery rhymes?”

Literature, specifically children’s literature, had been an ongoing interest for Y/N. One day, she even hoped to write her own children’s book. “The problem with nursery rhymes is that a lot of them have multiple origin stories. Rock-a-bye Baby is one of them. One theory is that it was about king James II and Mary of Modena passing off a random child as their own in order to ensure a Catholic heir to the throne. Another states that it was the first poem written on American soil, meaning it would date back to the 17th century…” Whenever Y/N got into something, she tended to pace around the room and gesture wildly with her hands. As she stood up, she continued, “It was said that it was inspired by an English immigrant watching a Native-American woman rocking her baby, problem with that theory is that the words in print first showed up in England around 1765.”

She picked up a bottle of water, guzzling down half a bottle in one go before she continued expounding of the origins of nursery rhymes. “Unlike Rock-a-Bye Baby however, Ring Around the Rosie is widely known to be about…” She motioned toward Spencer.

“The bubonic plague, of course. Are you testing me?” he chuckled.

She laughed, throwing him and Emily a bottle of water. “No, that would stupid of me, and I’m not stupid. I can just see you twitching in your seat about not being able to get a word in, so I figured I’d throw you a freebie.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he laughed.

“I know,” she replied. “Anyway, Ring Around the Rosie is about the bubonic plague and was used as a way to teach children about it. The symptoms of the plague included a red rash in the shape of a ring, as well as sneezing. A pocket full of posies referred to people filling their pockets with sweet smelling items in order to cover up the perpetual stink of death.”

“Given that information,” Spencer started, craning his head back toward Y/N with a smirk, “We could make conjectures about what the rhymes mean to each of the boys, but we can be more positive once we get additional information from Garcia.”

“Have we heard anything from JJ, Jack or Luke yet?” Y/N asked Emily, wondering about the similarities between the crime scenes. 

“Not yet. Jack’s just on his way to the ME, and JJ and Luke are on their way back now.”

—-

“What can you tell me about the boys?” Jack asked after introducing himself to the ME on site. “Any similarities?”

As they ME lifted the sheets off of each boy, Jack turned away. With his past, one would think he’d be used to horrible sights, but that wasn’t the case. His throat went dry at the bash wounds in each of their heads. “All died from blunt force trauma, which you knew already. I can tell you the weapon in question was a hammer, but it’s your generic hammer that could be bought in any store for five bucks, so that’s not going to help you. What I can tell you is that that same instrument was used to smash up their genital areas, which made me think it was used to cover up abuse, and when I took swabs, I found evidence of bleach, used on them after they died. I imagine your guy is in the system and doesn’t want to get caught.”

Thankfully, the ME hadn’t pulled the sheets any further than their chests, Jack didn’t need a visual of anything else to get the picture. “What about the burns on Xavier? Were they on the other two boys?”

She shook her head, motioning for Jack to take a closer look at Xavier. “From the tissue, you can tell that the marks on Xavier were made before he died. They would’ve caused a lot of pain. Maybe pain isn’t this guys goal?”

“That would make sense. Given that he didn’t do it to Justin and Diego and they were killed after Xavier,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his head and trying his best to formulate a theory. “I just came from where he dumped Diego and it seems to me that he was brought there for a reason. We haven’t figured that out yet, and I’m not sure about Xavier and Justin until I talk with my teammates, but where they end up might be the goal.”

That was all the information that the ME had until she found whether or not she was able to find DNA. “Thank you very much,” he said, shaking her hand and heading back. When he pulled out his phone, he saw that everyone was already back at the station. 

Within ten minutes, Jack was walking back into the station with Officer Ramirez by his side. “What did you and Luke find at the dump sites?” he asked JJ as he entered the room.

“Justin was found near a bowling alley. Very populated area,” she started, glancing across the room toward Luke, who was sitting right next to Spencer.

“Xavier was found near his old nursery school. Same thing. Populated area.”

It seemed that Jack’s theory had been correct. Before they continued, Emily patched in Garcia so she could use the information to give them a pool of possible suspects. “Diego was found in an open field where migrant workers pass through all the time. It was just off a main road. The goal for this guy has to be where they end up. Otherwise why take the risk in leaving all three in different areas, all highly-trafficked?”

“Agreed,” Spencer said, still staring at the nursery rhymes. “The dump sites are his motivation.” He rubbed the confusion out of his eyes as he tried to focus himself. “Alright, so our unsub is criminally-sophisticated. He uses forensic countermeasures. Based off the crime scene pictures, he also cares for these boys in some way, because they were all covered and had their hands placed over their chest, so he feels for them in some way.”

“He’s white,” Emily said. “Given the criminal sophistication, he’s between the ages of 35 and 45, and he lives a solitary life.”

Luke interjected. “Definitely lives alone. The boys were kept for a couple of days before being dumped, so he’d need isolation to do what he did, not necessarily a ton of space though, so we should look for someone who lives on the outskirts of town, where the houses are spaced further apart.”

While the team had been going over everything, Y/N had been pacing the room in an attempt to clear her head. “Garcia, once you get a list from that, crosscheck that to see if any of those names match either the gym teacher that runs their after-school sport, someone that works at their school or frequents it, and same with the orphanage. With that information and some additional background information on the boys, we can narrow down the suspects.”

“Okay, my angels on earth,” she replied, quickly tapping away at the keyboard. “It’s going to take me a while to get a suspect pool together, but before I depart, let me just say that I love you and stay safe.” Before she could cut out however, the chief of the precinct popped his head into the room.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he started, bringing the attention of everyone, including Garcia in his general direction, “But Mark Sutherland, age 9, had just been found near St. John’s Church in the middle of town, a bash wound to the head and mutilated genitals. And from what my officers can tell, he was only left there last night.”

“Did they find a nursery rhyme with him?” Y/N asked, feeling the bile rise in her throat as she realized that a fourth boy had been killed before they even left Quantico. 

“Humpty Dumpty,” the chief replied. “What the hell does it mean?”

No one had any idea, but they were about to find out.


	15. Putting the Pieces Together

On their way to the newest crime scene, Garcia called in, getting patched into the car’s speaker so she could enlighten her lovelies on some of the new information she’d gathered. “Hello, my loves. Your darling technical analyst has been relentlessly typing away trying to put together a list of possible suspects. I have good and bad news.”

“Give us the good news,” Spencer said, desperate for something to brighten their spirits. Y/N playfully smacked his shoulder. She would’ve gone for the bad first, then leave off on the good. That’s the way it was supposed to be done. 

“I would’ve gone with the bad first,” Garcia said, eliciting a silent smirk from Y/N. “But good news is that I have put together a list of white men, from the ages of 35-to-45, that live alone and have either the school or the orphanage in common with our victims. In the isolation area, I also added people that fit those parameters and live with a person they are caregiving for because I figured that if the person was incapacitated enough, it wouldn’t matter if they were in the house while any of these crimes were being committed.” After so many years as the Bureau’s chief technical analyst, Garcia had picked up on some profiling skills herself, but no matter what, she would remain behind her computer. That was where she belonged. “Bad news is, our suspect list is 164 men long, so I’m going to need more information in order to narrow this list down.”

“Have you found anything on the boys yet?” Jack asked from the back of the car just as they pulled up to the crime scene. “And add Mark Sutherland to the list.”

“I haven’t done that yet, Baby Hotch. Our fearless leader wanted a list of suspects first,” she quipped. “I am about to delve back into these poor boys’ pasts, and I hate it. I’ll hit you back when I have something.”

Just as Garcia clicked out with the promise of finding them a connection, the team pulled up to the newest crime scene, St. John’s Church, where he’d been found on the side of the building by the church’s pastor. “Pastor Robert,” Emily said, as the team remained behind to look at the crime scene. “You found Mark Sutherland here this morning?”

The shaken religious figure made the sign of the cross in front of his face. “Yes, ma’am,” he trembled, the image of the boy’s mutilated body still firmly burned into his mind. “Who would do something like that to a little boy?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” she replied. “When did you leave here last night?”

“About 6 PM,” he said. “Was he here when I was? The man you’re looking for?” 

In all likelihood the answer was no. “Whoever did this wanted to make sure he left Mark here, but didn’t want anyone seeing him. From what the local police can gather, he was left here after seven. Did you know Mark?”

“Only in passing,” he said sadly. “He used to come to this church with his parents before they died. They were good people. Didn’t deserve what happened to them. But since he lost his parents, he hasn’t been here with the orphanage.”

This was the first victim they had where someone knew of him before going into the orphanage. “What happened to his parents? Do you know how they died?” 

“Car crash. Right across the street. Apparently, they were on their way here to light a candle for his mother’s mother, who was dying of pancreatic cancer. A drunk driver hit them head on and killed them instantly. Mark was in the car, but he came out with barely a scratch on him,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. The poor boy had lost so much because of someone’s stupid mistake.

An immediate theory formed in Emily’s mind, but they had to wait for Garcia to come back with information on the boys in order to figure out if that theory was correct. “Thank you so much for your time, Father,” she said, placing her hand over his in a gesture of comfort before turning back around to head toward the team. “Peace be with you.”

“And also with you, my dear,” he replied. 

“What do have here?” she asked. Mark Sutherland had only been found recently, so Emily had asked that he not be removed from the scene yet.

Jack started up, immediately noting the similarities between this scene and what they knew of the other three. “Although we’ll have to double check with the ME, Mark suffered a bash wound to the head just like the other boys. And he was left here with his hands crossed over his chest.”

“And his genitals were smashed up in a similar way to Xavier, Justin and Diego,” Y/N interjected, bringing her hand over her mouth as bile rose in her throat. She knew she would come across horrible images in her time with the Bureau, but this was the first crime scene she’d been on where she wished she could forget what she saw. “Emily, what did you find out from the pastor?”

“Mark Sutherland lost his parents to a car crash. A drunk driver hit them head on just across the street. Mark was in the car, but came out unscathed.”

“That has to be the connection,” Jack said. “That’s why he was brought here. The last time he saw his parents was here.”

“Our unsub is reuniting these boys with their parents,” Y/N questioned, her nose turned toward the sky. “We need to see if Garcia found anything else on Xavier, Justin and Diego.”

After signing the forms to release Mark’s body to the medical examiner, they headed back to the station, dialing Garcia on the way. “Garcia,” Emily said, her tone more forceful than before. “What have you found on the boys?”

“I didn’t find a whole that would’ve helped you until about two seconds ago, like as you were calling two seconds ago,” she rambled, still typing away at the keyboard. “The only thing I found that all three boys have in common was that their parents all died in car crashes. Xavier’s mother and father died after his father fell asleep at the wheel. He worked three jobs to help the family and they were on their way to visit Xavier’s grandparents when he fell asleep and veered off the side of the road, killing them instantly. Xavier sustained minor burns in the fire.”

So that’s where Xavier’s prior burns had come from. It wasn’t abuse. It stemmed from the accident. While everyone’s minds worked in overdrive, Garcia continued to enlighten them about how each boy was orphaned. “Justin’s mother and father were high and drunk respectively when they hit into another car, killing themselves and all of the occupants of the other car, a mother and three children. The mother and one child died instantly, the other two children died in the hospital. And last but certainly not least, Diego’s parents died when a trucker fell asleep, running into their car. His father died instantly. The mother died at the hospital. Diego wasn’t in the car at the time. His parents had left him with a babysitter.”

Everyone sat in their seats, stunned by the overload of information that was still working its way through the cogs of their minds. “Where did each car crash take place, Garcia?” Y/N asked, from the back seat next to Jack. 

“Oh, hold on, let me see,” she said, furiously clicking away while they waited with bated breath. “Oh my god. Xavier’s parents died near his nursery school, Justin’s parents died near the bowling alley and Diego’s parents died on the road just off of where he was found.”

“That’s it,” Y/N said again. “The unsub is returning the boys to where their parents died. He’s reuniting them.”

“Garcia,” Jack and JJ interjected at the same time. JJ finished their thought. “Did any of the 164 men on your list lose their parents to a car crash?”

“And are there any other children in the area that have been orphaned due to a car crash?” Jack asked.

“I’ll hit you back, boos. This is gonna take some time.” With that she clicked off, and they arrived back at the station, ready to give the profile.

“Jack, why don’t you start us off,” Emily said, gaining the attention of the officers in the room.

As he stood in front of the officers, he felt a sense of pride. This is what his father had done for years on end, and finally he was here doing it too. He was a hero like his father. Before he started on the profile, he made a mental note to ask his father if he ever felt guilty about wanting to do this job meaning that people would die. Because there was a pit of emptiness in his stomach that he couldn’t quite put a word to. “Our unsub is a white male.” He began, swallowing the lump in his throat to portray an image of surety to the officers in front of him. “He’s between the ages of 35 and 45 and likely lives alone, given the fact that he needs to have somewhere to take these boys.”

“Despite the brutal nature in which they were killed, all four boys were hit from behind, meaning that they had no idea it was coming,” JJ said. “Couple that with the fact that they were left covered and with their hands crossed over their chests, it’s likely that this unsub believes on some level that what he’s doing is right.”

When Y/N noticed the disturbed faces of the local force, she stepped forward. “It sounds surreal, and it is. But it only needs to make sense to him. Xavier, Justin, Diego and Mark were all left where their parents died. Xavier’s parents died near his nursery school, which is where he was left. Same with Justin, Diego and Mark.”

“Do to the commonalities between them, it’s more than likely that our unsub lost his parents in a similar fashion and is using these boys as surrogates for himself, desperately trying to reunite himself with his own family,” Spencer said. “If you find him, don’t try to apprehend him alone. He’s a mission-based killer, which means that he’ll stop at nothing to do what he feels he needs to do.”

As the officers dispersed, the team headed back into the conference, desperate for Garcia to have found something. They were running out of time, and no one new whether or not another boy could be at risk. “Okay, babes,” Garcia said, as she was patched in for the third time that day. “There is one other boy within a 20-mile radius who was orphaned by a car crash. He lives at the orphanage now. His name is Derrick Lopez. I’m still working on narrowing down the list. Give me 10 minutes and I’ll call back-.” And with that, she was gone again.

Before Emily could even give the order, Y/N turned around, racing to the chief. “I need you to go find Derrick Lopez at the orphanage,” she said. “He is the only other boy who’s lost his parents to a car crash, meaning if he hasn’t been taken already, he is on the unsub’s radar.”

Taking the paper from her hand, the chief grabbed a fellow officer and ran out, hoping that they’d make it in time. When she returned to the room, out of breath and scared to death that they were too late to save Derrick, she huffed. “We needed that information from Garcia yesterday,” she said exasperatedly. She knew that Garcia was going as fast as she possibly could, but that didn’t keep everyone from tapping their feet and overanalyzing every last piece of paper they had while waiting for her to call back with the information they needed to track this sick bastard down. These boys had been through enough; the on-edge members of the BAU desperately wanted to find Derrick and save him at least some of the heartache. No one deserved this.


	16. Pop Goes the Weasel

The orphanage was less then 15 minutes from the precinct. “Why hasn’t he called yet?” Y/N asked, pacing around the room in a fervor, desperate for some good news; they couldn’t lose another child. But the chief still hadn’t called in with any news on Derrick Lopez - whether he was found or taken, alive or dead, no one knew, and it was eating away at them.

“It’s only been about 10 minutes,” Luke said, taking a deep breath and composing himself. He understood the frustration. In times like this, when they could do nothing but wait, five minutes felt like an eternity - no less 15 minutes.

After that brief and tense exchange, the members of the BAU sat in silence - the shuffling of papers, heavy sighs, and clicks of pens making notes that wouldn’t help the only things filling the air - until the phone rang through. “Dammit,” Jack said, jumping in his seat and clicking the phone on. “Garcia?”

“I am back Mini Hotch, and with good news. It took me a while to find the death certificates on the parents of all our possible suspects, so I narrowed it down looking at men that fit our guidelines that started at the school or orphanage within the last five years, because with a mission-based killer like this, if he’d started more than five years ago or so, these crimes probably would’ve happened earlier, right?”

“Probably,” Spencer replied. He was always one for finding out the reasons behind things, but right now they needed information. “So where did you go from there?”

“That narrowed our suspect list by three-quarters,” she said, clicking away at the keyboard and presumably bringing up the death certificates and accident reports on the unsub’s parents. “From there, two of our possibles had their parents die in car crashes, one from the school and one from the orphanage, but the one from the school lost his parents 30 years ago. Samuel Waterston lost his parents, Daniel and Melinda Waterston in a car crash 4 years ago, after which he joined the orphanage as a caretaker. He was’t qualified to be a teacher, so his duties mostly consisted of chaperoning, ushering them from activity to activity, and reading to them. Apparently, if any one of the boys is having a particularly rough night, the caretakers are allowed to take them home with them, which is mind-boggling to me.”

That’s where the nursery rhymes must’ve come in. He’d read them to the boys and had attached one to each of the boys in question. “It’s absurd, but we don’t have time to dwell on that now,” Emily said, her mind working a mile a minute. “Have you sent us his address?”

“Of course, my love,” she replied, wishing them luck and begging them to get Derrick home safe. Although what she did was integral to the team, when it came down to the wire, she always wished she wasn’t sitting in such a helpless position. She could do nothing in Albuquerque when she was sitting in her chair in Quantico.

Before they left, Y/N turned back toward the phone. After so long without a call from the chief about Derrick’s location, it was likely Samuel wasn’t at home. They’d leave orders for someone to check his home before they left. “Garcia, where did Samuel’s parents die and where did Derrick’s parents die?”

Typing at a speed that even the most senior members of the team hadn’t heard before, Garcia brought up the accident reports on both sets of parents. “Derrick’s parents died on Highway 187 between exits 43 and 44, and Samuel’s parents died across town near the community center. I’ve sent both addresses to your PDAs.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Emily said, clicking off the phone and staring out of the conference room toward the rest of the precinct. The chief still wasn’t back. They couldn’t wait any longer. “Half of us will go to the site where Derrick’s parents died, the other half will go to where Samuel’s parents died. Since he’s reuniting these children with their parents, his likely endgame is to kill himself where his parents died. Jack, you, Y/N, and myself will go to the highway, Luke, you, JJ and Spencer go to the community center.”

As they rushed out of the conference room, pulling on bulletproof vests to prepare for the worst, the chief came running back in. “Derrick’s not at the orphanage,” he said, breathing heavily. “We looked inside and out and even in the surrounding area, and there’s no sign of him.”

“We’re on our way to where his parents died and where our unsub’s parents died,” JJ said. “It’s unlikely he’ll be at his own address, but we need you and your people to check.” She handed him the address and watched as he sped like a marathon runner to grab two of his people and drive to Samuel’s house. He wouldn’t be there, but they needed to cover all bases. “Let’s just hope he’s not where his parents died yet.” If he was, that meant Derrick was most likely already dead - and the team would’ve been too late.

—-

Spread across the city, the members of the BAU and the local police searched in vain for the man that had brought on such carnage that anyone that worked on the case would not soon forget. As JJ had assumed, Samuel was not at his home, but he also wasn’t near the community center, which meant he was still with Derrick. “Let’s go,” she called to Spencer and Luke, “They’re on the highway. We’ll meet them there.”

—-

Just as they’d left the station, it had started to pour, so they’d nearly missed the image of Waterston standing over the young, scared child with a hammer in hand. “There!” Jack screamed, holding on for dear life as Emily veered off of the road and barely parked the car before hopping, gun trained and running toward the unsub.

“Samuel Waterston!” Y/N screamed, her voice nearly drowned out from the pouring rain. “Drop the weapon and step away from the boy!”

“I can’t do that!” he screamed, trying to be heard over the rain and passing traffic. “He’s the last one that needs to be reunited with his parents and then I can go see mine.”

She wanted to feel bad for him. He’d lost his parents in a devastating accident, but he’d molested the first four boys, and depending on when Derrick had gone missing, he could have suffered too. “Don’t act like you did this for them,” she yelled back. “You took advantage of Xavier, Justin, Diego and Mark!”

“I loved them!” he said, staring down at Derrick. “I loved them before I sent them to see their parents again! I sent them off with one last nursery rhyme. The ones they loved the most.”

As he spoke of the nursery rhymes, Jack could tell that was his weak spot. “What nursery rhyme does Derrick like the most?” he asked. “Why don’t you read it to him?” Immediately, Emily and Y/N looked toward Jack to see what his plan was, but as Samuel opened his mouth, they understood. He was trying to get him to lower his guard enough that one of them could take him down and the other could grab Derrick and get out of the way.

With little more than a glance, Emily motioned that she’d go for Waterston, while Y/N grabbed the boy. 

“All around the mulberry bush  
The monkey chased the weasel;  
The monkey thought ’twas all in good sport  
Pop! goes the weasel.  
A penny for a spool of thread,  
A penny for a needle-  
That’s the way the money goes,  
Pop! goes the weasel.”

Just as Samuel was about to finish his creepy soliloquy, Y/N and Emily executed their plan. Derrick reached out his arms, snaking them around Y/N’s neck as she ran out from under Samuel’s hammer, which was making it’s way down to the back of Derrick’s head. The hammer clipped her leg as she dodged out of the way, but before he could pick up the weapon again, Emily had smashed him into a tree on the side of the road, screaming for him to stop resisting as JJ, Spencer and Luke drove up and trained their guns on him. 

“Hey, Derrick,” Y/N said, cradling the crying boy in her arms. “It’s gonna be okay. He can’t hurt you anymore.” As the rain continued to pour, his tears mixing with the cool liquid falling from the sky, she watched as Emily, Spencer, Luke and JJ took Samuel into custody and drove away, leaving her and Jack to take care of the boy.

Leaning down, Jack grabbed Derrick from Y/N’s arms, placing him in the car before driving him to the hospital. Neither one of them wanted to leave him until absolutely necessary. Since he’d lost his parents, he’d experience nothing but heartache and loneliness. If they had to take him back to the orphanage, they wanted to make sure he had people who cared by his side until then.

As they pulled away from the curb and toward the hospital, Y/N reached over from the driver’s side and grabbed Jack’s hand. By the time they arrived, Derrick had fallen asleep, drained from the day’s events. “We can take him from here,” the doctor said, realizing they were law enforcement and assuming they had something to get back to.

“We’re not leaving him,” Jack replied, wiping the rain out of his eyes as they sat down in the waiting room. 

Even with sleep still in his eyes, Derrick looked petrified at the thought. “Will you come in with me?” Derrick asked Jack, reluctant to go into another room alone with someone he didn’t know. 

He looked back at Y/N, making sure she was okay enough to be left alone. “I’m good, Jack. Go. I’ll be here when you both get out.” A small smile crept across Derrick’s face as Jack took him in the back with the doctor. 

Both she and Jack would need to process their first real case. Figure out exactly what had happened and if they could’ve done anything better, but right now, both seemed to be on autopilot. And autopilot for Y/N meant making sure that Derrick felt safe, so she stood up from the chair, now soaking in rain water, and walked over to the gift shop, buying a teddy bear for Derrick to cuddle with on his way out of the hospital. She didn’t want to bring him back to the orphanage, but they didn’t have a choice. The least she could do was make sure he knew that someone cared.


	17. Aftermath

As Y/N approached the gift shop, still soaking and cold from the rain outside, she felt all eyes on her. Heavy with sorrow, she walked to the back shelf, taking in the array of stuffed animals before settling on a brown dog that looked a lot like a chocolate lab. “How are you today?” the woman at the counter asked cheerily. Bravo to her for being able to keep a smile on her face in the midst of all this misery. Y/N wondered if she realized that she was the light in the darkness for most that walked in here.

“Been better,” she replied, taking a 10 dollar bill out of her pocket and handing it over. “I’m one of the cops in town to help with the child killer case.”

“Oh, I heard about that on the news,” she gasped, horrified to meet someone in the flesh who actually came into contact with someone so awful. “Did you catch him?”

She nodded, taking the dog back from her in a crinkling plastic bag. “But not before he killed four young boys. My partner and I are here with the fifth that we managed to save. This is for him.”

The woman’s smile vanished slowly as the realized how distraught Y/N truly was. Four boys had died - and there was nothing she could’ve done to stop it. “You caught him,” she said, snapping Y/N out of her gaze. “That’s what matters. That boy you brought in is alive because of you and your partner.”

“Thank you,” she replied, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly as she looked lovingly at the small, fluffy dog. “Have a great day, ma’am. And keep smiling. It helps.”

“I do my best, sweetheart. Feel better.”

Y/N returned to her seat, waiting another ten minutes or so for Derrick to get checked out. Physically, he was fine. But he was emotionally scarred. When they got back to the orphanage, she’d made a mental note to ask if there would be some kind of therapy for him. “I got this for you, Derrick,” she said, kneeling down and revealing the fluffy dog. At nearly 9 years old, she’d been afraid that he would be too old for a stuffed animal, but after what he’d been through, he welcomed the soft fur with open arms. “Wait right here for one second and then my partner and I are going to take you home, okay?” 

Derrick’s eyes flashed with a mix of sadness and comfort. He was glad they were there, but he didn’t want to go back; he didn’t trust anyone anymore, and she didn’t blame him. Turning away, she walked toward the discharge window where Jack was filling out the necessary paperwork. “Hey, how is he?” she asked, turning back to see Derrick running the dog across his lap. 

“He’s physically okay. Samuel didn’t have any time to do anything. He rushed to get him to the highway. He’s scared. Doesn’t want to go home. But he also wasn’t molested. I asked him if the man ever touched him and he said no,” Jack said, swallowing hard at the thought of a nearly-9-year-old boy running from a grown man scared for his life. “He tried, but Derrick ran, and by the time he was able to grab him, he took him to the highway.”

It was bad, but it could’ve been worse. He wasn’t touched and he was alive. Derrick would need intense therapy after what he went through, but he was a strong kid; she had to convince herself that he’d be okay, otherwise she wouldn’t do what she needed to do. “I don’t want to take him back.” Y/N admitted as she leaned her head into Jack’s shoulder and he finished the last of the discharge paperwork. 

He reached his hand back, running it through her still soaking wet hair. “I don’t want to either,” he said. “But we don’t have a choice.” The idea of taking this poor boy, who’d already lost his parents and nearly been molested and killed by a disgusting human being, back to the orphanage where the man worked, was eating away at both of them. Over the years since his parents had died, Derrick had come to trust this man, only to have this happen. How would he trust anyone ever again? It was amazing that they’d gotten him to smile at all. What would happen when they left?

“I hate this,” she said. Her face had barely dried from the rain before the tears started again. Derrick glanced up quickly and she shielded her tears in Jack’s arms; she wanted to be strong for him. Once Jack finished up, the each took one of his hands and walked back out to the car to bring him back to the orphanage. 

“You’re going to be okay, Derrick,” Jack said, kneeling down in front of him as they got out of the car. “You’re so strong. I lost my mom when I was really young too, but I made it because I knew that there were people that cared about me. My partner and I care about you; we need you to know that.” Without a word, he looped his arms around Jack’s neck and gave him a hug. 

When he walked back to his room with one of the women that worked there, Y/N started to sob. “Will there be some kind of therapy for him?” she asked the head of the orphanage. “Anything to help him through what he’s been through?”

“We don’t have enough resources for a separate therapist,” she said sadly. “But we do have a counselor here that he can talk to.”

It wasn’t fair. That wasn’t good enough. They wanted to turn and walk out to the car, but something kept them anchored in place. “Is it okay if my partner and I leave our numbers? He can call if he feels like he has no one to talk to?”

The woman’s eyes softened at the thought. “I’m sure he’d love that. Thank you so much.”

“Take care of him,” Jack said. Grabbing Y/N’s hand, they made their way back to the station to meet up with the rest of the team. They had done all they could do. It was time to help someone else now.

—-

On the way back to the station, Emily had texted them both to just meet them at the jet. No one wanted to be here anymore. Though they’d saved the boy, they all still felt as though they hadn’t done enough. “How is Derrick?” JJ asked sadly.

“Well,” Y/N said as she sat next to Jack on the jet, “He’s physically okay. He wasn’t touched and he didn’t suffer any injuries, but he’s scared. He’s not sure who to trust. We gave the orphanage our numbers in case he wants to call us.”

JJ smiled, as did Emily, but there was a hesitancy in her eyes. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” she asked.

“He’s scared. He doesn’t know who to trust, but he believes that we care.” She understood Emily’s hesitancy, but both she and Jack had to be able to put their heads on the pillow at night - and that meant being there for Derrick if they could, even in a small capacity. “I can’t turn my back on him if he needs someone to talk to. I’ll hate myself.” That seemed to be enough for her because she let it go. Thank god, because she didn’t have the energy to make her point any further.

As the jet took off back toward home, the sadness took over with no one saying a single word. If an emotion could weigh a plane down, they would’ve nosedived into the ground. 

Hours later, the plane touched the ground and everyone made their way off, silently saying goodnight. No one had any energy for anything else. “Your place or mine?” Y/N asked as they headed toward the parking garage. 

“Can we do mine tonight?” he asked.

She nodded her head and climbed into the passenger side seat, falling asleep before they made their way back to the Hotchner household. As if he knew, Aaron was waiting at the door for them, saying nothing as Jack carried Y/N inside and laid her down on the bed before getting changed. 

Y/N’s soft breathing was all that resounded throughout the room as he sat in his arm chair and lit the candle that permanently sat next to the picture of his mother. “Hey mom,” he said quietly. “Did I do the right thing? I felt horrible leaving him there.” He always imagined his mother telling him everything he needed to hear whether it was true or not. 

When Y/N opened her eyes, she could see Jack talking to the picture of his mother. Weeks back, he’d mentioned that he’d done that. Although she was awake, she wasn’t sure if he wanted time to himself, so for a few moments, she sat there in silence, listening to him turn from a 20-something man into a 5-year-old boy, desperate for his mother’s voice to make him feel better. “You’re awake,” he said, looking toward his bed to see her smiling at him. 

“Yea,” she sighed. “I was only half asleep.”

Reaching out his hand, he helped her off the bed and offered her one of his oversized shirts to sleep in. “Come here.” She turned around to see him once again sitting in his arm chair. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

As she sat in his lap, Jack pulled the picture closer to him. “Mom, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is my mom, Hayley.”

“Hi, Hayley.” She smiled, leaning her head back into his shoulder. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Jack’s told me a lot about you - all good things I promise.” Y/N knew how his mother had died, but it was never that that they discussed. Despite only having her for five years, Jack remembered a lot about his mother and recounted it all with joy. “Jack’s turned out to be an amazing man, so thanks for that,” she said, tilting her head upward to graze her lips against his. 

“She’s an amazing mom,” he replied, cradling Y/N’s head in his neck. “And dad has done a great job since you’ve been gone. So don’t worry.” For the next hour or so, the three of them spoke, talking about how he and Y/N had gotten the jobs at the Bureau. “I know you didn’t always like Dad’s job,” he said somberly, “But I hope you’re still proud of what I chose to do.”

The thought that he might have felt at any point like he was disappointing his mother made Y/N cry. “I know she’s proud,” Y/N said. “I would be.” The heaviness of sleep began to take them both over. Although the bed was only a few feet away, neither could move. Instead, Jack picked up the candle and blew it out, falling asleep with Y/N in his lap and his mother looking over them both.


	18. The Tension in the Air

Oh, Jack remembered the fight that ensued when he revealed to his father that he planned on following in his footsteps. 

When he was growing up, Aaron had always seemed proud of Jack and the man that he was growing into. He still hoped that he was. Every time Jack would call him a hero, or act like his father, taking out all the bad guys as he played around the apartment, Aaron would beam with pride - as much as his father tended to “beam” anyway. As Jack would run around the apartment, and later, the house they moved into together, he’d notice his father’s slightly upturned smile and how his shoulders would soften from their normal stiff stance. So wasn’t it a surprise to Jack when he let it be known that he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps - become a member of the BAU; it had been met with exact opposite reaction he expected.

“Why would you want to do that?” his father had asked tersely. 

At that point, in his 16 years on earth, he’d never been so confused. What kind of question was that? “Isn’t it obvious?” he replied, closing the door to the house. He was going to go to the library down the street and study, but he hadn’t expected his revelation to be met with such disdain. “I grew up watching you. It was all I ever wanted to do, and now I can.”

“You can’t do what I did,” Aaron said. “You’ll regret it.”

Why was his father being like this? “Dad, I get that I’m only 16, but I’m in college now. I get to decide what I want to do with my life - and this is what I want. I thought you would understand why I want to do this.”

“I don’t,” he said. “You can’t do this, Jack.” His voice started to elevate. Yelling was not part of his father’s repertoire.

“Are you telling me what I can and can’t do for the rest of my life?” Jack screamed.

“Yes!” His father’s voice went raw with rage. “I don’t want you having to think about the things I think about at night! That’s not what your mother would’ve wanted for you!”

“Mom’s not here! You have no idea what she would want for me now!” Even as a kid, it registered to Jack that his mother wanted him to be happy - and he could only imagine that she’d want him to follow his dreams, no matter what they might be. Why couldn’t his father just get behind him? 

The tightened muscles in Aaron’s face fell as he realized that Jack didn’t understand the weight he carried with him every day - since the moment he’d beaten George Foyet to death. “Exactly! She’s not here because I made a decision to put the job ahead of her life and it got her killed!”

Jack’s heart dropped. The angry tears that had walled up against his eyes fell to the ground with a blink. He’d never once blamed his father for his mother’s death, but apparently he did every day. “Foyet killed Mom, not you. Allowing him to get away again wasn’t an option. He could’ve played you. He could’ve kept on killing anyway…and he could’ve even killed mom regardless. You did your job. Now, I know you mean well, but this is what I want to do with my life. I want to catch people like Foyet. That’s what I’m going to do and there isn’t anything you can do or say to talk me out of it.” And with that, he’d turned and left, walking to the library to study for his first constitutional law test.

The weeks that ensued were fraught with tension that even a hot knife through ice couldn’t have cut through. Jack and his father had barely spoken because nearly every time they attempted to, they got into a fight about Jack’s chosen career path. And then one day, his father said something. Jack couldn’t remember what it was. All he remembered was that it had nothing to do with his mother or his career choice and they hadn’t spoken about it since. His father seemed to just accept what was as fact.

—–

Nearly three months had passed since the Nursery Rhyme Killer case. For years, Jack had consciously chosen to live at home with his father because he felt guilty about leaving him all alone in their house, but as his first year on the job wore on, he noticed that old tension rising to the surface again, but it wasn’t spoken about and he wasn’t sure why it was there again. 

“Would you talk to your father?” Y/N said exasperatedly. Even she had noticed the tension, although she had nothing to compare it to - and she hadn’t even been around that long. They’d been dating about four months. Y/N couldn’t imagine what his aunts and uncles would think about the stilted interactions between father and son. “Having whatever this is sitting in the air isn’t good for either of you.”

“I can’t,” he sighed. 

“Why?”

“Because it’ll cause a fight.”

“Why does it have to cause a fight?” she asked. “You are both grown men. You’re telling me you can’t sit down and have a conversation about your choice of career, what happened when you first told him, all that? It doesn’t have to be a fight.”

In theory it didn’t have to be, but Jack knew that it would. “My dad blames himself for my mother’s death. I don’t. He thinks that if I have to make a decision like that, I’ll end up making the same decision as him and hating myself for it.”

“You need to talk things out,” she repeated. “If you don’t, you’ll drift apart and that is something I can guarantee your mother wouldn’t want for you. No matter what happened back then. She loved you and she loved him until the day she died. Watching you drift apart would rip her apart. I can’t tell you what to do. You’re a grown man. But you need to talk to him.”

“You’re right,” he mumbled, closing the car door and heaving a giant sigh before putting on his seatbelt. “I know you’re right. But it’s hard and I don’t like fighting with him.” He was stomping his feet on the car floor like a child.

She reached her hand over to grab his as he used his other hand to pull the car away from the curb and toward the BAU. “I know you don’t. But fighting and working through it would be a better option than never speaking to each other to avoid fighting. It makes no sense.”

“I just have no idea why this is coming back now,” he said confused. They were on their way to work after a couple days off. After two months of dating, Jack mentioned the possibility of moving in together, and Y/N had immediately invited him to live in her apartment, so they took a couple days off to move things from his house to her apartment. 

“Really?” she laughed. “You don’t know why?”

“You know why?” he asked surprised. “How?”

“I pick up on things. The past few months have put some rough cases in front of us,” she started. “And it’s been hard for you. For both of us. We’re new to this so of course it’s hard. But your father has had to watch these things plague you, and that has to hurt him as much if not more than it hurts you. I don’t have kids, but my mom always told me that seeing me in pain ripped her heart out, so I would imagine that’s how your dad feels too.”

He hadn’t picked up on that at all. The Bureau came into view just as Y/N spoke again. “You didn’t get that at all, did you?” She was stunned. “You look like you’re in a stupor right now.”

“Yea, I never put that together,” he replied. “But it makes sense.”

“Of course it makes sense,” she laughed. “Men have this amazing ability to compartmentalize things that women just do not get the luxury of. Like the reason why your father is acting the way he is, is so obvious to me.” The look on her face was priceless. It was like someone surprised her with something she hated and she had to fake liking it. And it was frozen there. “God, I wish I could compartmentalize things like that. Then maybe I wouldn’t be awake at night constantly.”

“Ready to go inside?” he asked, turning in his seat and leaning over to pull her in for a kiss. “And I swear I’ll work on the talking to my dad thing…eventually.” As they made their way through the garage and up the elevator to the bullpen, she reached her hand up and smacked him on the back of the head.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute,” she giggled.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Garcia said as they walked off the elevator. “We have a case. It’s not good.”

“Uh-oh,” Y/N said as they walked into the conference room. “What do we have?” 

“As you know, the highway database we have set up records bodies found off of major highways all across the country,” JJ started as they sat down. “Well.” With a click, Garcia brought up a series of red dots located all around the country. 

“Each dot represents a pair of people killed,” Garcia said horrified. As Y/N’s eyes grew wide, she scanned the map. There had to be at least 20 dots there. Meaning 40 people.

Of course, Spencer new in an instant how many dots there were. “22,” he breathed. “44 people. How are we not hearing about this until now?”

As he looked at the map, Luke could tell why. “Because those 22 dots have been spread throughout 8 states. And the bodies never show up in the same area, even if they happen to be off the same highway.”

“Even though we don’t have anywhere specific to go at the moment, this is our priority,” Emily said. “Garcia already looked up all of these people and they had missing persons reports put out for them. Every single one. All of them are the lowest-risk victims you could imagine.”

“What’s the MO?” Jack asked. 

“The woman is stabbed five times every time,” Spencer said. “Three to the stomach, one just near the heart, but not enough to kill, and the last is straight to the head.”

Luke swallowed hard. “And the man is always shot and from what evidence we have, it’s after the woman is stabbed.”

“Again,” Emily said, “This is our priority. We need to keep this map from lighting up.”


	19. It Can't Be

Over the ensuing weeks, all of the members of the BAU, both senior and new recruits, called precincts all across the west and midwest, discussing the couples left off the side of the road. “What can you tell us about the couple you found on the side of the highway?” Jack asked the chief of the Amarillo Texas Police Department. “It’s come across our desk that whoever killed this couple has been killing couples all around the country. Is there anything you can tell us about them?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Kent,” he said. “Nicholas and Diane. They were about the nicest couple you could ever hope to meet. They had two children, who now live with their grandparents. They both worked a full-time job to make ends meet. But they seemed to be very happy. No one understood why they were targeted.”

It wasn’t always a specific reason, Jack thought to himself. Victims of opportunity happened more often that he would like; it made it all that much harder to track those killers down. “It doesn’t always make sense at the time,” he said. “How did they die? Recount anything specific you can think of.”

“Well,” he hesitated, trying to recall the details of that day. The couples had died anywhere from just a couple of weeks okay to more than a decade ago, and the Kents had died about nine years ago. Apparently, it was still vivid enough for the chief to remember. “I remember that she was on the ground face up and he was placed on top of her. From the blood splatter, it was determined that he had been forced onto his wife’s dead body and then shot in the head. Died instantly. Oh, and a wrist brace was left with her body - one for the right hand - but according to everyone we interviewed, Diane didn’t have any use for a wrist band. They all said it wasn’t hers - and her wedding ring was taken.”

After another couple of questions, Jack thanked the man for his time and hung up the phone. Calling all of these precincts was a time-consuming and tedious task, especially because most of the older crimes happened so long ago that the cops couldn’t recall all that much detail. Thankfully, the Chief of the Amarillo department had been a bit more helpful. 

As he walked back into the conference room, he recounted the information to Garcia so she could keep track of it. “Any luck with anyone else?” he asked. The entire team had set up around the round table. Today was a day of information gathering regarding some of the older murders, trying to put together an accurate timeline in between all of the other work they had to accomplish.

“Nothing more than what we already know from the Flagstaff police,” Spencer said, hanging up the phone in frustration. “They are faxing over what they have.” He’d made four phone calls in the past hour and had gotten nowhere.

“Tulsa either,” Luke sounded.

JJ spoke as she walked back in with some much-needed coffee. “Or Santa Fe.”

“What did you get from Amarillo?” Emily asked. 

Jack sat down, filing through his papers and doing his best to keep them organized. “The trail went cold after about a year of investigating,” he started. “He confirmed what we’d said, that they were extremely low-risk. From the blood splatter, they determined that she had been stabbed first, thrown on the ground, and then he had been forced onto her dead body and shot. She was also left with a wrist brace that everyone they interviewed claimed wasn’t hers, and her wedding ring was taken. The chief said he’d send over a picture of the brace and ring for us to keep. It should be coming in any minute. What about you?” he asked, turning towards Y/N with a hopeful look in his eyes. 

“The officer in St. Louis said that the woman was stabbed first, same pattern as the others, three to the stomach, one near the heart and the final in the head. The man was shot after. The crime scene also had something left that didn’t belong and something was taken,” she said.”

“Was it the same type of things?” Penelope asked. 

“No, a ring was left, but a necklace was taken. I’m also getting pictures of the items for our records.” This had been Y/N’s fifth phone call, and every story sounded the same. The only thing that had been added to in regards to their information was the fact that something was left and something was taken. 

After about 15 minutes, Jack excused himself to go to the fax machine. His and Y/N’s evidence pictures should have come in by now. He picked up the pictures, noting the pictures of the ring from his crime scene, the wrist brace, and the necklace from Y/N’s scene. But when he looked closer at the two pictures of the rings, something washed over him. The ring was the same, but it was at both crime scenes. How was that possible?

He pulled out his phone, asking Y/N when the couple she’d just asked about died. 

April 17, 2015. Why?  
Because the Kents had died the same year, three months earlier, on January 22. Maybe the Kents were killed and then no one had been killed in between them and the couple that Y/N asked about, which would mean…the ring was taken from Mrs. Kent and left on Y/N’s victim. 

Immediately, an awful, nagging, soul-crushing feeling washed over him. There was someone in his past who’s signature was exactly that, but it couldn’t be him. He was dead. George Foyet was dead. Repeat it to yourself, he said to himself. George Foyet is dead. George Foyet is dead. George Foyet is dead. He wanted to believe it, and in Foyet’s case it was beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was dead, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have a copycat on their hands.

—-

When he walked back to the round table room, Y/N could immediately tell something was off. For the most part, Jack was a really happy guy, so even in the midst of a case, he could manage a smile. But right now, there was none to be seen. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He sat down next to her, gaining everyone else’s attention. He obviously had an extremely personal connection to Foyet, and couldn’t say for sure whether or not this person was copying him, but he had the idea and he couldn’t keep that away from the rest of the team, even though he might look a little paranoid. “Look at these pictures, tell me what you see.”

Y/N scanned the photos confused. “Here’s the wrist brace from your scene, the necklace from mine, and the ring. Did one of our pictures not come through?”

“No,” he sighed. “This is the same ring. One on Mrs. Kent’s hand before she died, and the other on your victim’s hand at the crime scene. It’s the same ring. And these two couples in particular were killed three months apart. He took it from one and left it on the other.”

Jack rested his head in his hands, desperately hoping that he was overthinking things. If he wasn’t, this was going to be bad. “What is it?” Emily asked.

“I could be overthinking things,” he said. “And honestly, I hope that I am, but there is someone most of us know very well that had that exact signature.”

Immediately, it dawned on the group what Jack meant. “Foyet is dead,” Spencer said. “He’s not back.”

“I know that,” Jack said. “I’m not saying literally. But he’s one of the most nefarious serial killers in history. What’s to say that we don’t have a copycat on our hands? Operating across the country rather than just in Boston?”

An extremely uncomfortable silence filled the room. So I’m not the only one, Jack though to himself. “It’s not just me. I’m not losing it. It could be a copycat.”

“We definitely have some more investigating to do.” Luke said, putting his information up on the board they’d designated specifically for this case.

—-

“I’ll see you at home in a little while, okay?” Jack said, taking Y/N’s face in his hands and pressing a kiss to her lips. 

She swallowed hard. Since he’d made the connection earlier in the day, he’d just been off; she didn’t blame him - at all. If they did have a copycat on their hands, this case was about to bring back a lot of old memories for him. “You know you can talk to me, right?” she asked. “I’m here for you.”

Jack smiled, pulling her in for another kiss before turning to leave the apartment. “I know. And as soon as I get back, I’d definitely like to, but for right now, I’m going to take this opportunity to go talk to my dad.”

“Oh, that’s great,” she replied. “Good luck. Just be honest with him.”

“I will,” he said, sighing heavily as he turned the doorknob. “And Y/N…” He hesitated. “Thanks.”

—-

“Hey, Jack,” Aaron said as he opened the door. “How’s Y/N doing? She’s not here?”

“She’s great, Dad,” he replied. “And no, I came over by myself.”

“Anything wrong?”

“I just wanted to talk. I feel like we haven’t done that in a while.”

As Aaron closed the door, Jack plopped down onto the couch in much the same way he used to when he’d had a bad day at school. “What’s wrong?”

“I just wanted to talk about me doing this job. Mom. All those things that we fought about years ago and then never talked about again.” He looked at his father as he came over to the couch. 

“What about it?” he asked.

“I need you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that I don’t blame you at all for what happened to Mom. But it seems like you do.” Slowly, Aaron nodded his head, tears forming in his eyes. But he refused to let them go. “If you still blame yourself after all these years, you need to talk to someone, Dad. Talk about it. Mom wouldn’t want you to be carrying this guilt around for the rest of your life.”

The corners of his lips turned up. Of course Jack was right, but it was easier said than done. “I’ll work on it,” he swallowed. His father never did like asking for help. He accepted it, but he never outright asked for it. Never had before. Jack was hoping that would change. “And as much as I hate the fact that you chose to do this job, I need you to know that I’m proud of you every single day. Always have been.” 

A warmth spread throughout Jack’s body as he heard the words he’d been wanting to hear for nearly ten years. His father didn’t have to like it, but knowing he was proud went a long way in helping Jack feel better about his life path. “I think mom would’ve wanted me to follow my dreams,” Jack said after a few minutes of silence. 

“I do too,” Aaron said. “I just can’t imagine how this was your dream, especially after Mom.” Jack had thought about that before. A lot of people - family and friends - had said the same thing. But for all his father’s faults, the one thing Jack knew for sure was his father’s duty to the job. It didn’t waver. He always did the right thing. He’d protected Hayley to the best of his ability while still doing his job.

“You say that because you blame yourself,” Jack replied. “But I don’t. Foyet was fixated on you. If you had taken that deal he set out for you, there is a very likely chance that he would’ve done something else to get your attention. He could’ve killed mom anyway. He could’ve killed me. Hell, how easy would it have been to lure me away from school one day and kill me. At a point, in his mind, it was about you, not the victims anymore, so I firmly believe that even if you had taken that deal, the end result wouldn’t have been much different. Maybe that’s me being naive and making the best of a bad situation, but it’s what I choose to live my life by.”

Smiling, Aaron looked up at his son. Despite the trauma in his background, Jack had grown up to be one of the finest young men he’d ever laid his eyes on. “Your mom would be so proud of you.” He stood up from the couch and wrapped his arms around his son. “So why didn’t Y/N come with you?” he asked.

“I had the intent of having this conversation so I decided to come myself. I just kissed her goodbye and told her I’d be back soon.” Though his father had retired over a decade ago, he was still very much the profiler. 

“What’s up with Y/N?” he asked. “Something is going on. She pregnant?”

“No,” Jack said immediately, although not in the tone that he had expected. The thought actually didn’t scare him, and he’d though it might, especially this early on in their relationship.

“Then I know what it is,” Aaron said, leaning back into the couch. 

“No you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” he laughed. “You love her. You were about to say it before you came here and you didn’t.” Jack snapped his head toward his father. How did he do that? How did he pinpoint something that even Jack hadn’t realized until right this second. As Jack stayed quiet, contemplating his relationship with Y/N, his father’s voice faded back into the forefront. “Don’t waste any time, Jack. If you love her. Say it now.”


	20. Don't Waste Time

Another two weeks went by before the team was able to put together a comprehensive timeline of events. From the first couple murdered nearly 11 years earlier, to the one that was killed just over a month ago now, they were all plotted out. Forty-four people taken from the world by the same man. Their killer did have remarkable control. Couples tended to be killed about three months apart, with an extra thrown in once or twice over the last decade. 

While they had been putting together their timeline, Jack and Y/N put together the list of everything taken and left at each crime scene. It all matched up perfectly. “This is nuts,” Y/N said. “This is definitely The Reaper’s signature, but he’s dead, so who the hell is this?”

“Who the fuck knows,” Jack replied, rubbing the frustration out of his eyes. Why was this happening again? Hadn’t The Reaper already destroyed enough lives? Now some other sicko was replicating his crimes and had been for the last ten years. While he was just starting college, this guy was just starting out. It felt like more than a coincidence, but whoever this was couldn’t possibly have known that he would make it onto the team. “I need a breather.” Pushing off the table, he walked out of the round table room and toward the elevator, stopping in the parking garage for some fresh air. 

Y/N knew how much this case was bothering Jack. How could it not? His mother was taken away by this psycho and now someone else was out their replicating the crimes, at least to some degree.

“Do you wanna go get him?” JJ asked. The were about to go over victimology and try and hone the profile for the 50th time. 

Y/N shook her head; she knew when he needed her and when he needed a minute alone. “He just needs a minute to breathe. He’ll be back when he’s ready. Should we start?”

Emily sat down, motioning through the window for Garcia to come back. “Yea, let’s start with the map. Location.”

“He started in LA ten and a half years ago and traveled as far as Illinois,” Spencer started. “Every three months another couple dies and he’s traveled through 8 states. The only constant we have in regards to location is that he kills a couple in each state, dumps them off a major highway and then moves to the next state over. Our last couple was killed in Chicago, which means our next couple is going to get killed about two months from now in Missouri.”

“But if he’s traveling back and forth, he probably lives in his vehicle and has a movable job,” Y/N said. She began rubbing her head, trying to focus the images in her head. “Even ten years ago, these crimes were sophisticated, so back then, this guys wasn’t in his teens or early 20s. He had experience, which means that he had to be late-20s to mid-30s, putting him in his late-30s to mid-40s now, about the same age as The Reaper was, when he was at large.”

Luke chimed in from the back of the room, handing Spencer another cup of coffee. “Third one today,” he laughed. “You might wanna slow down.” Spencer responded by gulping down half a cup in one go. “The Reaper could’ve kept going if he wasn’t so fixated on Boston, but this guy doesn’t have that kind of tie, it’s a possibility he’s been a traveler since before the killings started. And he can keep killing if he changes states. Keeps the authorities off his trail.”

“So how do we narrow this down?” Penelope asked, bringing up a plethora of search engines on her laptop. “Do we narrow it down to the eight states he’s been working in?”

“Yea, definitely,” JJ nodded. “His job keeps him on that route, so we need to look up truckers, salesman, any type of job that would allow him to move around that consistently. And that would currently have him in Missouri, because that’s where he should be going.”

“And those men are gonna be between their late-30s and mid-40s,” Jack said as he walked back into the room. He sat down at the table and Y/N grabbed his hand underneath, giving it a light squeeze. Jack was a bit surprised that Y/N hadn’t come after him, but he was thankful. He just needed to clear his head. This case was fucking with him. “On top of that, The Reaper increased the amount of stab wounds on the woman depending on how young she was, but all of the women have been between 30 and 40, and the amount of stab wounds is always the same. Five. There has to be a reason for that.”

As Y/N looked through the pictures of all the victims, she noticed something. “All of them look the same,” she started, passing out the pictures to the other members of the team. “All of the women are a medium height and build, long dark brown hair and light eyes. The men, same thing, they all look the same, between 5′10″ and 6′3″, brown hair that is just starting to go gray, fit build. What if these couples are surrogates for someone else in his life?”

“But after ten years wouldn’t he have just gone after them?” Luke asked. He did bring up a good point. 

“Possibly,” Jack said. “If he knows where they are. He might not. On top of that, if he does know where they are, he could be waiting for the perfect moment.”

“We also can’t exclude the possibility that the true targets of his rage are already dead, which is why he’s been doing this for so long,” Y/N said. “He can’t stop because he’ll never truly be able to target the ones he wants, so he keeps looking for a good enough substitute, even though there will never be one.” There were just too many possibilities. Trying to catch someone who was so in control of their urges, so diligent, and moving across states lines was next to impossible. “Oh, this is so ridiculously hard.”

“Do the best you can with that for now, Garcia,” Emily sighed, knowing her search would undoubtedly reveal thousands of names. This was not going well. They knew too little. “Unfortunately, I think the only way we’re going to get any closer is with another set of victims.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. No one wanted to admit it out loud, but Emily was right. They were going to have to wait for another couple to die before they could get any closer.

—-

By the end of the day, everyone was exhausted, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and heading home to clear their heads. “Ready to go, babe?” Jack asked, reaching out for Y/N’s hand. It had been a day of jumbled up puzzle pieces, just barely fitting together, with little chunks missing here and there. It was exhausting. 

“Yea,” she smiled sleepily. “Let’s go home. Can you drive? I’m exhausted.”

He shook his head, leading her to the elevator and leaning her against his chest as they took the ride down. When he’d talked to his father a couple of weeks ago about being in love with Y/N, he’d told him to tell her. “Don’t waste time” were the words that he used. 

At first, he didn’t want to say it during the case. They had so much going on already, but as she buried her head in his chest, rubbing his back after a long day, he realized how stupid that was. If anything, this case threw into sharp relief that people could be gone from your life in the blink of an eye. If something happened to Y/N, he didn’t want to regret not telling her how he felt. 

As the doors to the parking garage opened, Jack took a deep breath, leading Y/N to the car and opening the passenger side door. “Y/N,” he said before she sat down. “I…I love you.”

A small smile crept across her face, her sleep-filled eyes lightening as she spoke. “I love you, too, Jack,” she replied, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. “So much.”

He walked to the opposite side of the car, getting in and driving them home in silence. “Anything in particular bring that on?” Y/N asked as they got home. “Saying you love me I mean.”

“I’ve felt that way for a couple of weeks. When I talked to my dad, he said I should tell you sooner rather than later,” he started, walking up to their apartment. “I was gonna wait until after the case and our minds were a little more clear, but then I thought about my mom and how quickly she was taken away. I didn’t want you to not know in case anything were to happen to either one of us.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” she said. “We have a good team behind us. But I’m glad you didn’t wait. Because I love you too.” After getting changed, both felt too tired to do anything but fall asleep, but before Jack pulled the covers over them both, he placed a small candle in a glass, lit it, and placed it next to his mother’s picture. Some nights, when he was too tired to talk to her, he’d light a candle and know that she was there watching over him and keeping the nightmares at bay.


	21. Taunt

“If you stop hunting me, I’ll stop hunting them.” The gravelly voice on the other line didn’t sound real.

The phone had rung out, causing Jack to slap his hand to the side and grab the phone. They were probably being called in early. Maybe there was a break in the Copycat Reaper case. “What did you say?” he asked sleepily as Y/N woke up at his side. “Who is this?”

“I won’t tell you who I am,” he said, his voice very obviously distorted, “You’ll find out soon enough. If you’re smart enough, that is. But I know who you are.” He had know idea who this was, but something was very obviously wrong, so he pulled the phone away from his ear to put it on speaker and record the conversation. “The Reaper generously gave your father the same deal all those years ago. Are you going to make the same mistake? Put your new love at risk?”

Jack wanted to keep him on the phone, keep him talking as long as possible, but Y/N wasn’t having any of the baiting this man was going for. “I don’t need protection. Coward.”

“Oh-ho,” he laughed. “She’s there. Your father had the same cocky attitude and it cost your mother her life. Are you going to take the same risk?”

Jack swallowed hard, desperately wanting to take the deal - save lives, but as he’d told his father, this man’s words weren’t to be trusted. Likely, he would turn around and keep killing anyway. “Just like my father, I hunt scumbags like you. We will find you.” This was the kind of thing his father had been talking about - making decisions that could cost lives. He’d never imagined that he’d come across such a decision in so similar a way as his father - his hero.

“Every victim from here on out…their blood is on your hands, Jack Hotchner. I’ll see you soon.” With that, he hung up, leaving the two young agents to quickly get dressed and run into the office.

“Hey, guys,” Y/N said as they hurriedly walked out of the elevator. It was only when she slowed down her own pace that she realized everyone else was just as frantic. “What happened?”

“Family of six, four children and two adults, were just gunned down in their home,” Spencer said, running to grab the rest of the team. This was the last thing they needed right now. A family annihilator on top of the copycat Reaper. It was almost too much to bear. By the time the reached the home of the Maklin family, everyone was on edge, barely saying a word for fear of pissing one another off.

There was splatter on the walls.

Six bodies piled up in the middle of the floor in a pool of blood.

Parents Timothy and Janie Maklin, surrounded by Timothy Jr., Cassandra, and Alexandra right next to them, and 8-month old baby Mark laid quietly and forever in his mother’s arms. All of them dead. Y/N inhaled sharply, the image of the young family cut down so brutally etching itself into her mind. “Oh my god,” she breathed, her eyes settling on the baby. “Why…?”

Jack came to her side, pulling her into his chest. They didn’t need this right now. Before Emily could say anything about examining the crime scene, Jack bent down, grabbing the baby’s hand with gloved fingers. “What the hell?”

“What is it?” JJ asked, kneeling down at his side. As he looked at the baby’s hand, covered in red liquid, JJ and the others did the same with the other members of the family. All of their hands had been painted with red, the brush sitting right nearby, still dripping itself. “Blood. He used their own blood.”

Their blood is on your hands, Jack Hotchner. “Their blood is on your hands, Jack Hotchner,” Y/N muttered, swallowing hard as she made the leap. “It’s the copycat. It’s him.”

“What? How do you make that connection?” Luke asked confused, his eyebrow raised in her direction. “There’s nothing that indicates that.” 

Except there was. She knew it and Jack knew it. She could see it in his eyes as they closed. “Yes, there is,” he said, turning to the rest of the team with his head in his hands. “He called us this morning. Me technically. He called my cell phone.”

“Who?” Emily asked, her eyes wide with concern. “The copycat? What did he say? How did he get your phone number?”

“I don’t know how,” he said forcefully, “But he said the same thing The Reaper said to my father. ‘If you stop hunting me, I’ll stop hunting them. I told him no, just like dad did…and now…”

Y/N immediately knelt down, her hand on his shoulder as he stared at the little baby boy. “This was NOT your fault. He chose to do this. It is not on you.”

He stared off into the distance, wanting to believe her. But his mind was playing tricks on him. How could it not when he’d gone out of his way to show that the blood was on his hands. “The last thing he said before hanging up was ‘Every victim from here on out…their blood is on your hands, Jack Hotchner. I’ll see you soon…he’s here. He’s in DC.”

“Why?” Spencer asked, more thinking out loud than anything else. “Why would he come to us? We all know that the reason Hotch was brought into the original case was because he had a connection to it, and when the original case agent died, he took over. You have no connection to this man.”

“He probably made one. He has a connection to The Reaper,” Jack said, pushing up off the ground and walking back and forth. “After ten years of killing what we’ve determined are surrogates, he can’t find the high he’s looking for, so he antagonizes the police, and because I am connected to my father and my father is connected to The Reaper, he makes the jump and decides I’m the one he wants to torture.”

“Why this family?” Spencer asked. “This guy hasn’t done anything by accident.”

He hadn’t. Right across the room, there was a piece of paper on the table. In blood was written ‘on you.’ Another taunt aimed at Jack. Next to the paper was the bracelet taken from the last victim. “We have to call Garcia,” Y/N said, hurriedly taking out her phone and dialing Garcia. “Hey, Garcia, I need you to check something out for me.”

“Whatever you need, my sweet. I am the Oracle of All Things Knowable and Unknowable. How can I help you?”

“Were the Maklins the only ones to have ever lived in this house?” she asked. She had a theory. And it wasn’t good. With a few strokes of her keyboard, Garcia found that no - in fact - they weren’t the only ones to have lived there. Three couples had resided there before. “Send me the pictures of all three couples.” In seconds, she had her answer. “He used to live here. Our killer used to live here.”

She enlarged the picture on the phone, turning to show it to the rest of the team. An old couple had lived in the house, a 50-something couple had lived in the house, and most recently, Dennis and Tina Foyet had lived here with their son, Michael - and they looked exactly like his victims. “He has the same last name,” she breathed. “Our killer’s name is Michael Foyet.”

“Foyet?” Garcia cried. “That can’t be.” She continued clicking in the background, pulling up every piece of information she possibly could. “No relation. Just a horrible, disgusting, icky coincidence. Oh god…”

“What is it?” Spencer asked. “I know that tone.”

She took a deep breath before recounting the story of Dennis and Tina Foyet. “Michael’s parents were killed in a home invasion when he was 15. His father was shot after watching his wife be stabbed to death, five times…”

“Three to the stomach, one to the heart and one to the head,” Spencer mumbled. That’s why Foyet stabbed each woman five times, because that’s how many times his mother was stabbed.”

“But why is he killing people that looked like his parents, if they were taken away from him?” Y/N asked. “Makes no sense.”

“It would if he wanted to kill them himself and someone else took that opportunity away from him,” Emily replied her stomach turning as she spoke. “Garcia, were there any troubles in Michael’s background?” Maybe there was some “justification,” at least in his mind, for wanting to off his own parents.

“Oh boy was there ever,” Garcia started. “Starting at the age of five, Michael was disciplined for everything imaginable, bullying, hitting, kicking, cursing other kids out, the works. If you could get in trouble for it, he did it. He was kicked out of three schools. The most recent being just before his parents died. Rumor had it that they were going to send him to a boarding school. One of those military types - to straighten him out you know?”

“So he wanted to kill his parents, someone else took that opportunity away, and for the next ten years he kept trying to fill that void with people that looked like his parents,” Jack said. “But why imitate Foyet? And why show his hand by calling me?”

“He’s bored with killing. He needs another form of manipulation to get the high he had when he started, or the one he’s been looking for since he started. Plus, he shares the same name with one of the most prolific serial killers in the last 100 years,” Luke said, wiping the sweat off his brow. “He shows his hand because he needs a thrill. He’s a narcissist. He wants to be bigger and better than his predecessor, so he takes bigger risks than Foyet to see if he can get away with them.”

Finally, they had a name. But as Emily had said, they needed six more bodies in order to find out his name. A buzzing went off in Jack’s pocket, startling him out of his stupor. His mind was a muddled mess of information and emotion. “Hello,” he snapped.

“Hello, Jack,” the voice said from the other line - the same distorted voice as before. “How’re you coming on my case?”

Turning to the rest of the team, he signaled for Y/N to alert Garcia to track the phone. “I know who you are…Michael.”


	22. Where It All Ended

The silence on the other side was unsettling. “So…you know who I am,” he said quietly. “I had to give you that one. Otherwise, we would have been dancing around each other for ages, and frankly, I’m bored.”

“Keep him talking,” Y/N mouthed, motioning forward with her finger. While she listened in on the conversation between Foyet and Jack, Emily whispered to Penelope to get a track on Jack’s cell phone. More than likely, Foyet was nearby. Michael may not have known it until now, but this was his endgame. 

“You’ve been bored for quite a while, haven’t you?” Jack asked. If he had to make an educated guess, Michael Foyet had probably been bored for at least half the length of his killing spree. There was only so long he could entertain himself when the true objects of his rage were already dead. 

Foyet’s uneasy laugh crept up Jack’s spine, causing him to grimace. “Yea,” he said. “You got that right. I haven’t felt anything close to my first in a long time. It’s been years. I doubt I ever truly knew what that kind of high was supposed to feel like.”

“Because someone took your parents out from under you…you wanted to kill them yourself. From a young age, if I had to guess.” It was all conjecture, but considering the path Foyet’s life took, it wasn’t a far leap to assume he’d always hated his parents. 

Turning around, he motioned to Emily to figure out if they had his location yet, but apparently he was running his signal through multiple lines so Garcia needed more time to track him down. “Keep him talking,” she whispered. 

“About five,” he said, bringing Jack’s attention back to the conversation. “My parents knew there was something wrong with me. That I wasn’t like other kids. I just hated them,” he growled. “Every fiber in my body burned with hatred for them, and just when I’d decided they were going to die, someone else took the opportunity from me. He’s never been caught. Hopefully, one day I’ll be able to find him and kill him myself for taking my right away from me.” The way he finished off made it sound like he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Jack swallowed hard. The way this guy was speaking - it was on a level of disturbing he hadn’t felt since The Reaper. And he’d been so young. He wasn’t sure if The Reaper’s crimes truly ever sank into him - despite how personal they were. “You’re not going to get that chance,” Jack said. They were less than a minute from finalizing the trace. “We’re going to catch you.”

“I look forward to meeting you,” he breathed into the phone, an almost song-like quality to his voice. “The son of the famed Aaron Hotchner, the man that made a decision that cost him his wife’s life. How does it feel, Jack? Knowing that you made the decision to kill that family whose house you’re in?” Y/N had been listening to the conversation, stiffening at Foyet’s words. “I didn’t kill them,” he said, watching as his girlfriend took a deep breath. “You did. You said it yourself. You’re bored. You would’ve gone on killing, if not this family, another couple. Apparently, that high you’re looking for lies in me now. You would’ve done something else to get my attention.”

Fifteen seconds until they had the trace. “I do have to admit…I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he hissed. “Maybe this is the high I’ve been looking for.”

“Got it,” Spencer said. “We’ve got him.”

“See you soon, Jack. Remember, the blood is on your hands. Keep your loved ones close,” he singsonged. He disconnected the call.

Spencer threw Emily’s phone over to Jack. They had a location, but he was on the move. Right now, Foyet was in a warehouse downtown, but he was moving east. “Let’s go,” Y/N said, running out of the house and leaving the other agents to take care of the crime scene. “He’s not going to go down without a fight. He’s already proven he’s smarter than his predecessor.”

The rest of the BAU thought the same thing. He’d gotten away with this for ten years. The high he sought was consistently elusive. “He doesn’t have anything to lose anymore.”

—–

With the siren blaring, every car in their way moved. But they still weren’t getting there quickly enough and he was still on the move. “Where is he headed?” Spencer asked from the front seat. 

“I can’t tell right now,” he said, trying to guess where he was headed. “He’s still headed east.” As the dot on the phone moved closer and closer to its eventual destination, Jack put the pieces together. “Make a right!” 

“You know where he’s headed?” Y/N asked, her gun loaded and ready to go. From the look on his face, he knew exactly where - on a personal level.

“Yea, I think I do,” he sighed. There were few things their profile could definitely say about Michael Foyet. He was a narcissist. He’d been on a search to find the high that killing his parents would’ve given him. And he wanted to outdo his predecessor. Prove that he was smarter, better…What’s the best way to do that? End his rampage by taking out as many members of the BAU as possible in the place where George Foyet’s life had ended. “My old house.”

—–

Foyet knew the likelihood of getting out of this alive, but he didn’t care. This feeling right now, I’ll take that for another 30 minutes, rather than take an eternity of doing what I’m doing now. It’s not enough. But knowing as he died that Jack Hotchner would never forget his face - that he’d haunt his dreams for the rest of his life - that he’d be questioning what he’d done for as long as he lived - that would be enough.

—–

As they pulled up to the house, which was currently up for sale and empty, all was quiet. “I’m going in,” Jack said. 

“We’re coming in with you,” JJ said. Not a question. “Emily and I will go in the back, Spencer and Luke can go in the side, and you and Y/N go in the front.” He wanted to fight it. To tell them that he would go in alone, but they weren’t going to have it. 

“I’m taking the bedroom upstairs,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s where The Reaper left my mother for my father to see.” As they approached the house, Jack felt a tightening in his throat. “This is about me. If anyone else comes with me, he’ll hurt you to get to me.”

Y/N put her hand on his shoulder as the team parted ways and Jack opened the door. “I’ve got you covered. You’re not alone.”

Carefully, he opened the door. Although different, there was still so much familiar about the house he grew up in. Spencer and Luke would be entering through the kitchen. “When we go upstairs, you go directly ahead. I’ll go to the left. That’s where the bedroom is.”

“If I see nothing, I’m coming to help you,” she said, adding quickly, “No questions asked.”

He grunted quietly. He wanted to protect her, but he also knew he wasn’t her protector; she could do that herself. “I love you,” he said, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed. “Don’t.”

As Jack tiptoed down the hallway, he focused his hearing, listening for any sign of Michael in the bedroom. There was none. With his gun aimed high, he began to enter the bedroom, his gun hand reaching just pass the door frame. Before he knew it, it was knocked out of his hand and he was pushed back into the door frame - a bullet whizzing just passed him and down the hallway.


	23. Don't You Dare

As his head hit the door, a speck of blood fell from Michael and onto his face. In his confusion, he hadn’t realized that the bullet didn’t come from Michael’s gun, but rather Y/N’s and she’d grazed his arm. When he reached his hand upward to cover the wound, Jack took the opportunity to kick the gun out of his hand. “Jack, move!” she screamed, jumping over him and into the room with Foyet. 

Jack grabbed his head, the hit rippling through him and causing his vision to go blurry. “How does it feel Jack? Knowing your girlfriend is going to die because of you? Just like your mother died because of your father,” Michael laughed, taking the knife out of his pocket and swiping it in her direction. She could see the blood of the Maklin family still caked onto the blade. “Like father, like son.” Y/N reeled back, punching him so hard that a tooth flew out of his mouth. 

“Shut up!” she screamed, watching as he spat blood on the ground. They stood facing each other, but every time one made a move, the other would counter. 

Michael was truly losing his mind. He no longer cared whether he lived or died. All he cared about was inflicting as much physical and psychological damage as he could. “She’s tougher than your mother was. From what I hear, your mother cried like a little bitch.”

“Enough!” Y/N screamed, lunging across the room and tackling him to the ground and pinning the hand that held the knife to the ground. She took a punch to the eye, getting knocked back but still managing to kick the knife out of his grasp. Again, she crawled on top of him, punching him over and over, letting loose all of her anger and Jack’s onto Michael’s face, until Jack pulled her back. The rest of the team had made their way upstairs during the exchange, but she’d been to full of rage to notice.

Foyet was barely breathing, but he was still alive. She would’ve continued punching him until he was dead, but Jack wanted him alive, in prison, and unable to feel anything for the rest of his life. That would be better punishment. If she killed him, he’d die satisfied - and that was way more than he deserved. “It’s okay, babe,” Jack said, falling back with Y/N cradled in his arms. “It’s over. Are you okay?” The punch she took left a significant mark, her eye swollen shut. 

“I’m okay,” she breathed heavily. “I’m fine. He’s…?”

“Still alive,” Jack said. “And going to prison where he belongs. You lose, fucker.” Foyet smirked as Jack left the room with Y/N. A couple of ambulances would be arriving soon. 

“You need to get checked out,” Jack said to her a few minutes later as Foyet was being loaded into the other ambulance.

She swallowed hard, leaning on the car and taking in the scene in front of her - all sirens, red lights, and bloody stains on the quiet street. “I’m fine, Jack.”

“You have a black eye,” he said, caressing the side of her face. “Just make sure he didn’t rupture anything, for me.”

“Do it,” Emily said, as she walked up. “That’s an order.”

The rest of the team made sure that Foyet was taken into custody. “I’m going to ride in with him,” Luke said. “Take care of yourselves. Both of you get checked out.” He wagged his finger in their direction, like a dad scolding his children.

While Y/N got checked out by an EMT, Spencer picked up a light, not happy with the speed at which he was going and checking Jack out while they waited. “Follow the light,” he said, waving it slowly in front of Jack’s line of sight. 

“I’m fine, Uncle Spencer,” he huffed. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to put this behind them and start fresh on a new case. 

“You’re not fine,” he replied. “You have a concussion.”

Once Y/N was finished getting checked out, Jack did the same. The EMT confirmed that Jack indeed had a concussion. “When we get back to the Bureau, I want both of you to take some time off. It’s Thursday. I don’t want to see either of you in the office until Monday.”

“Emily, I’m fin-” Y/N exclaimed.

Jack turned to face his aunt. “I’m good, Aunt Emily.”

“No questions,” she said. “Not until Monday.”

Frustrated, both agents got into the car, slamming the doors behind them and sitting in silence before being driven back to the Bureau. By the time they got there, Jack’s head was splitting and Y/N was feeling sick to her stomach, but both sat down at their desks and started on paperwork. “Go. Home,” JJ said, taking the paperwork away from both of them. 

Y/N huffed as she stood up, angrily grabbing her things and walking toward the elevator. “Oh thank god you’re okay,” Garcia said, teetering out of her office and enveloping Y/N in a hug before walking over to Jack. “My Mini Hotch.” She sighed, taking his face in her hands and kissing him on the forehead. “I’m so glad you’re both okay.”

But were they really?

—-

Once Jack and Y/N walked into their apartment, they collapsed onto the couch and into each other’s arms. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to him. “I’m so sorry you had to relive that.”

Jack hugged her tighter and leaned his head on hers. “Thank you,” he said, pulling her legs up and into his lap. “Thank you being there. And for repeatedly punching him in the face.”

A slight laugh escaped through her nose. “I would’ve killed him if you hadn’t pulled me off of him.” She looked down at her knuckles, taking in the scrapes and bruises his face had inflicted upon her. It was the first time she noticed that her hand hurt. “He deserved so much more.”

“He does,” Jack said. “But if you’d’ve killed him, he would’ve died happy because you would carry that around with you, whether your stubborn ass wants to admit it or not.”

She punched him in the arm. “Right back at you, Hotchner,” she laughed. “One other thing. I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. And I have no problem with you telling me you love me all day every day, but never, ever say that to me like you did today. Subconsciously, it makes you let go - because you’ve said all you needed to say. If you don’t say it, you’ll fight harder to get back to the ones you love, so don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, placing his finger under her chin and bringing her mouth to his. “I just never want to die without having told you. I feel like my dad regrets that every day because they were estranged when she died.”

“Your mom knew how much your dad loved her. Sometimes it’s just implied…no matter the circumstances,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his chest. “And that’s how I feel about you. I know you love me. Every single day. So don’t say it. Just take my love and fight to get back to me.”


	24. Guilt

The next few weeks were hell. 

“Fuck!” Jack screamed, knocking his keys off the counter for the fifth time that morning. 

Not so much because of the cases. Although horrific, most of them had been cut and dry and much closer to home than their previous cases. No, it wasn’t because of their cases. Foyet 2.0, and in Jack’s case, the Original Version, got into his head more than he wanted to admit. To the point where he was snapping at Y/N when he didn’t mean to. He wondered if this was the kind of thing his father had had to deal with when he and his mother had divorced? And if the guilt he felt by not taking the deal was the same kind his father felt? 

As a child, he had never blamed his father for what happened to his mother, and he still didn’t. But now that he was in almost the same situation, he felt guilty for doing the same thing as his father. So should he feel guilty? Should he not feel guilty? Who the fuck knew? “Jack, you really need to talk to someone. If not me, then someone.” He had been on edge for weeks. And she didn’t blame him. But he also couldn’t go on this way. It wasn’t like him.

“I don’t need to talk to anyone,” he snapped. “I’m fine. It’ll go away eventually.”

“No,” she said, standing in front of him and getting right in his face. “It won’t. Not if you hold it in and refuse to admit that it’s affecting you. Talk to me. Talk to a therapist. Talk to your father. Anyone. But don’t snap at me. That’s how shit blows up. I’m not into it and I won’t allow it.”

She began to walk out the door. “Where are you going?” Jack called. God, he wanted to go to the prison where Foyet was and beat the living shit out of him right now. But again, he’d like that. Jack was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Y/N was already halfway down the stairs. “I’m taking the subway to work until you talk to someone,” she screamed. He loved her for not taking any shit, but when it was his shit…that was another story. He knew she was right, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Who would want to talk about the man that killed their mother and the man that came to copy him? It was too much. Oh fuck me, he thought to himself. I don’t want to think about this anymore. But he knew he had to. For himself and for Y/N. He didn’t want to lose her because of these men; they’d already taken too much from him. 

Picking up the phone, he called his Aunt Emily. “Hey,” he sighed. “I’m going to be coming in a little late today. Is that okay?” He rubbed at his temples, desperate for this ongoing, month-long headache to leave him be.

Her breath caught in her throat when she’d seen his number. Since that day, he’d been off. She knew it. The rest of the team knew it. His father knew it. But she couldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to. “Yea, that’s fine, Jack. Anything wrong?”

“No.” He shrugged. “I just want to stop by my dad’s and talk to him for a few minutes. Y/N’s on her way in though.” Thank god, Emily thought. Maybe Hotch would be able to talk him through this whole thing. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to be in that position. Although, she did have to fake her own death once. But having your mother taken from you and then have a copycat come around to torture you - that was something she couldn’t comprehend. Very few people could help him through this, and Hotch was one of them. “I think she’s mad at me. Like actually made at me.”

“She loves you,” Emily chuckled. “She just wants you to talk about what happened. That was one thing your father didn’t do a lot. He didn’t let people in - even the ones that had his back at every turn. Just don’t let that come between the two of you and you’ll be fine.”

Jack smiled, grabbing his keys and walking out of the door, locking the door behind him. “I hope so. Love you, Aunt Em. I’ll be there in a little while.”

“Love you too, kid,” she replied. “See you soon.”

—–

On his way over, he texted his father to let him know he was coming. “Hey, Jack,” Aaron said as he opened the door. “What’s up? You’re not okay.”

“No,” he said. “No, I’m not.” He walked in the house and plopped down on the couch as he’d done so many times before. “I’m not going to say that I wish I hadn’t taken this job, because I don’t, but I also never thought I’d be in the exact same situation that you were in…and, I just don’t know how to deal with it. Plus, I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of saying I told you so.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” He smirked. “Tell me what’s going on in there,” he said, sitting across from his son. Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, Jack told him all about Michael Foyet, how he’d studied George Foyet’s case, knew all about his mother and what happened between his mother and his father, and how he’d taunted him the same way his father had been tortured. “He called that morning and said ‘If you stop hunting me, I’ll stop hunting them.’ And then, when Y/N and I went into work that day, a family had been killed, two parents and four children, including a baby that was less than a year old. If I had taken the deal, they’d be alive.”

Hotch nodded. “Probably yes. But like you told me, he most likely would’ve killed someone else. He wanted to torture you, so it was going to happen regardless.” Reaching across the expanse between them, Hotch put his hand over his son’s. “This was not your fault. Don’t let this come between you and Y/N,” he said. “She loves you. And I can tell how much you love her.”

“I do,” he said with a smile. “I really do. I wanna marry her.” Wow. That was new. The look on his face made his father laugh. Jack knew that he loved her, but having that revelation pop out of his mouth was something he hadn’t expected.

“You look how I did when I first realized I wanted to marry your mother.”

A ring broke through the silence. “Hold on one second,” he said, going to grab his cell. “If you want to marry this woman, we have things to talk about. Hello?”

“Hello…” A small voice broke through the line. “Aaron?” It was a woman. She sounded tired, drained, as if someone had been slowly sapping the life from her.

“Who is this?” He pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the number. He didn’t recognize it, but the voice knew him.

“Jessica…”

Jessica? 

“Jessica?” he questioned, shuddering at the fear in her voice. “Jessica, what’s wrong?” Jack immediately ran up to the phone.

“Aunt Jessica? Are you okay?”

“He has me…” she breathed. “He let me use the phone. But I can’t see him. I don’t know who he is. But he knows you. Aaron…help me.” In a flash, the line disconnected, Jessica’s tired voice replaced by another more sinister one. 

“You disappointed your father-in-law by letting his daughter die,” the voice chided. Aaron clenched his fists. His father-in-law had never forgiven him for Hayley’s death - until the day he died. “Are you going to let the same thing happen to his only other child? She needs you, Aaron…Jack. Where are you?”


	25. Collateral Damage

Jack and his father exploded into the BAU after the line disconnected. They had already driven at the speed of light to Jessica’s apartment to check and see if she was there. “Hotch?” Emily asked. Not that they didn’t love having Hotch back in the BAU, but he wouldn’t be there if there wasn’t a reason for it. Something happened. “What’s wrong?”

“We just got a call from Jessica…Hayley’s sister,” Hotch clarified. “She said someone had her. That he knew me but she didn’t know him. She sounded tired.”

Jack looked completely out of breath, wrapping his arms around Y/N as she came to stand by his side. “We went to her apartment and she wasn’t there, and her job hasn’t seen her in two days. She’s been gone for two days.” He huffed, his eyes glazing over with tears. He’d just spoken to her three days earlier. They were going to get breakfast over the weekend. He was going to talk to her about how he wanted to marry Y/N. “We have to find her.” I can’t lose her too.

“And I’m assisting,” Hotch said, staring at the screen as Garcia walked in. 

“My fearless leader,” she said confused. “Not that I don’t love to see your razor-sharp jawline where it belongs, but what are you doing here?”

“Jessica, Hayley’s sister has gone missing. Someone took her and allowed her to call us. But she’s been gone for two days.” He swallowed hard. Every day since Hayley died, he had carried that guilt. Despite what he told his father-in-law, he beat himself up every day for what happened to Hayley. He would not allow Jessica to die too.

Quicker than a speeding bullet, Garcia sat down and opened up her laptop. “What can we do? We’re at your service.”

“Alright,” Spencer stared, lifting his hands up to the sides of his head. “This is personal obviously. So who would want revenge on you?” 

“People you’ve put away,” Luke said immediately. “Or people whose lives have been irrevocably damaged because you put them away.”

“She said that he knew me, but she didn’t know him. Garcia, can you look up and filter through all of the people I’ve put away, for what, and how many have been released?” he asked, wishing that Garcia had the typing ability of the world’s fastest court reporter. She was the best there was, but he needed everyone to work faster than they ever had before. He couldn’t lose Jessica too. 

In disbelief, she stared at him, her fingers moving across the keys without ever looking down. “Look, sir, I know you haven’t been here in a while…but can I? Of course I can. It’s just going to take a while to put a list together, especially if you want me to include people’s who lives have been ruined but haven’t been in prison. That’s almost an infinite amount of people.”

Hotch sat down at the table, his shoulders pushing back and taking on the stance they used to. “Emily, I still need you to take point, but I need to be here.”

“I know, Hotch,” she said softly. “It’s okay. Where do we go from here?”

“Well, the number wasn’t registered,” Jack said, remembering that the number his aunt had called from came in as restricted.

“So there’s no way to track it.” Garcia sat back in her seat, focusing all of her energy on compiling a list. 

“Okay,” Y/N said, pacing in the back of the room as she tended to do when they were under a lot of stress. “That list is too big. We have to find some way to narrow it down. What exactly was said? By her and him?”

Jack sat back, rubbing his temples and attempting to remember exactly what the man said. “God, I wish I had Spencer’s brain right now.”

“Sorry,” he said. 

“Not your fault…okay. Aunt Jessica said ‘he let me use the phone. I can’t see him. I don’t know who he is. But he knows you. Aaron, help me.’” Jack snuck a glance at his father, whose head was in his hands. He was fighting off tears. Jack loved his grandfather, but he was well aware how much he hated his father after his mother had died. If something happened to his aunt, Jack wasn’t sure what was going to happen to his father, but it wasn’t going to be good. “And the man said, ‘you disappointed your father-in-law by letting his daughter die. Are you going to let the same thing happen to his only other child? She needs you. Aaron, Jack, where are you? So this is about me too, at least in terms of torturing people.” Why the fuck couldn’t he and his father catch a break? This was unreal.

“Aaron,” Y/N said, sitting down next to her boyfriend’s father. Everyone stared in her direction, not used to anyone addressing Hotch that way. “How did he sound? Could you detect any emotion in his voice? What does it say?”

Hotch closed his eyes and swallowed again, doing his best to shut out everything else and concentrate on the man’s voice. “He sounded accusatory. Like he was chiding me. And he knew about Hayley and my father-in-law, so he’s had plenty of time to research me.”

She spun around in her chair, kicking her feet around and trying to come up with a way to narrow down the infinite list of people that could want revenge against Aaron. “Okay, so Garcia,” she said, turning to face to ready and waiting technical analyst, “This isn’t going to be just anyone. This is going to be someone who had time to plan this. He definitely put them away.”

“I agree,” JJ said, shaking her head. “And it’s likely they were convicted of a harder crime, more than likely murder. But they were recently released, or possibly escaped. Garcia, look up murderers that Hotch had been the lead agent on, who were put away, and have since been released or reported missing.”

“Okay, that helps,” Garcia said, pulling up a list. It was still a big one. At least 50 men. 

“Where the hell do we go from here?” Spencer asked. The members of the BAU exchanged tired, scared and desperate glances, looking for the answers in the eyes of someone else, but none of them had a clue where to start.

—–

“Here you go,” he said, walking up to Jessica and handing her a bottle of water with about a third of the water left. “That’s it for today.”

After gulping down the water, she looked up at him with fire in her eyes. She’s a fighter, this one, he thought to himself. Good. That’ll make it all the more heart-wrenching for Aaron Hotchner when she didn’t make it. “Why are you doing this? What do you want?” She tried to scream, but the first day he brought her here, she’d screamed at the top of her lungs for hours on end. She’d ripped her vocal chords to shreds.

He bent down to meet her gaze, grazing her cheek as he did so. When she recoiled from his touch, he laughed. “I’m not that kind of man,” he replied. What kind of sick man would take advantage of a woman like that - no, that wasn’t his thing. “Aaron Hotchner ruined my life. Sure, it would be easy to go after him, but then he’d die. I could’ve gone after his precious son, but he stepped into his bastard father’s shoes. I would’ve been found too quickly. I wouldn’t have been able to have any fun. But him living with guilt and regret? Enough to eat away at him until the day he dies or decides that he doesn’t want to go on living? That’s my reward. You…you’re collateral damage, Jessica.” Despite being tired and drained, her voice raw from yelling in vain, she lunged at him, scratching his face as he pulled back and kicked her in the ribs; he watched with glee as she coughed and fell to the floor. “Save your strength, dear. You’re going to need it. But don’t worry. I’ve heard it’s a relatively painless way to go…just very long.” He sneered.

“Fuck you,” she said under her breath, still clutching her side. He told her to repeat herself. “Fuck. You. Aaron and Jack will find me. And you’re going to die.” She said it, but behind her eyes, he could tell she was scared - scared she was going to die alone. Good, that isolation is what drove him to this. Everyone he knew cut off all contact when he went to prison. No one would hire him. No one would speak to him. He would be alone until the end of time. The only consolation would be that the man who put him away would have the deaths of his wife and sister-in-law on his conscious until he died.


	26. Words Speak Louder

She was keeping track by marking with her nails on the floor. Day four. She had been here for four days with just enough water to keep going, but no food. He was starving her to death - and watching through the camera as it happened. “Why?” she asked quietly, speaking to no one in particular. There was no one in the room. It was barely even a room. There were no windows - just a light overhead, a blanket and pillows on the cold, concrete floor and a camera wired up to each corner of the ceiling. If she had to guess, she was in a warehouse of some kind. 

Every moment she was awake, she searched for a way out. A way to tell someone, somewhere that she was being held against her will - but there was nothing. Her only hope was that Aaron and Jack would realize that she was missing and find her in time. Given her height and weight, she was fairly sure that she could last quite a while without food - but surviving and living were two different things.

—-

“It’s been two fucking days and we’re no closer to finding out who has her!” Jack exclaimed, walking around the room and pulling his hair. His father looked on, not so much surprised at his outburst, but more surprised at how much he’d turned out like his mother. Hotch wasn’t the kind to let those kinds of feelings go in a public setting, Jack however, was perfectly fine with letting it all go. 

“Stay calm,” he said half-heartedly, knowing that Jack was going to yell - and yell he did, freaking out until Y/N stepped between them.

“Hey,” she said, stepping between father and son and quieting them both. “You, shut the hell up,” she said to Jack. “And you, Aaron, I love you and I’m not going to tell you to shut up because I was raised right, but this is NOT helping.” She took a deep breath, trying to be the rock they both needed. It was only half-working. “I get that you’re both frustrated. If I was in your shoes, I would be losing my mind. But yelling at each other isn’t helping, and frankly, this isn’t about either of you…this is about Jessica. Your aunt, your sister-in-law…she needs you. Top of your game. Not bickering with each other. So cut it out.”

Stepping away, she plopped back into her seat and looked around the room at stunned faces. Hotch was the only one with a slight smile on his face. He knew she was right. Everyone else, including Jack, was beyond stunned. “No one yells at Hotch,” Garcia said, staring at her in awe. “How did you do that?”

“Extenuating circumstances,” she said with a short chuckle. “I wouldn’t normally yell at my boyfriend’s father and ex-FBI agent. I don’t have a death wish.”

Emily came back from her office, having narrowed it down to 30 people. “We can’t go to each of these men’s houses and search around. If Jessica is hidden somewhere, and we don’t find her, the unsub could use that as an opportunity to dispose of her. We need to narrow it down to the absolute best of our ability before barging in anywhere. Now…what else do we have? What else can we use to find her?” It had been another two days. They’d searched high and low and thought of anything and everything to narrow down their list of possible suspects, but they were still eons away from finding her.

“Hotch,” Spencer said, pulling up a chair in front of his former boss. “Close your eyes.”

“What? Are you going to try a cognitive on me again?” he asked. They’d already done one two days ago. “Reid, I’ve already told you all everything he said.”

“And you know as well as I that you can remember things, emotions, small little details after the fact that you wouldn’t have picked up on earlier. Just….shut your eyes.” Reluctantly, Hotch’s eyes fluttered closed, allowing Spencer to use his soft interview voice to start a cognitive.

“When he took the phone from Jessica and started talking, what did he sound like? Was there an accent of any kind?” It might help to narrow their list of 30 down some. 

Hotch took a deep breath, his eyes dancing behind his eyelids as he thought back to the man’s voice. “It was watered down,” he started. He was surprised he’d even picked up on it. “But it sounds like Irish-American, or Scottish-American…I can’t pinpoint it.”

“Does anything else about his speech pattern strike you as odd?” Spencer continued softly. “Take your time.” He noticed Hotch was getting fidgety. This was helping, but it had been four days and he felt like they were running out of time.

Jack closed his eyes as well, trying to see if he could pick up on anything. Something was coming to him, but he didn’t know what it was until his father mentioned that there was something about the end of the sentences that was off to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “There was a rise in pitch at the end of the sentence. Like a question, but he started out with sentences,” Jack said out of nowhere, his eyes bolting open. “What does that mean?”

If anyone would know, it was his Uncle Spencer. Jack watched as his Uncle’s eyes darted back and forth, eventually landing on the world map that was sitting just outside the room. “What is it, Spence?” JJ asked. “I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.”

“Ulster English,” he said, as if everyone was supposed to know what the hell that meant. 

“Expand, babe,” Luke said. He knew that his husband would eventually get to the point and share his thought process with everyone else, but they couldn’t waste any time. “No one knows what that means.”

Pointing at the map, toward the Northern part of Ireland, he began to expand on what he knew. “Ulster English is a dialect spoken in Northern Ireland,” he said. “The dialect is known for the use of declarative statements that have an upward inflection at the end of sentences, like questions. Hotch, you said that the man had a watered down accent…Garcia!” 

“Hands at the ready, Boy Genius,” she said, her fingers resting comfortably above the keys. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“Out of the thirty people that we narrowed it down to, did any of them emigrate to the United States from Northern Ireland?” Even if the list was narrowed by half, they’d be closer than they were before.

Garcia’s face lightened as she found their answer. “Only two! Calum Murphy and Eoin Walsh, both convicted of murder while Hotch was lead investigator.” Hotch’s hands came up to the side of his head; he recognized those names. 

“Calum Murphy killed two boys in his neighborhood after molesting them,” Hotch said, the men’s faces unblurring themselves before his eyes. “And Walsh killed his wife after kidnapping their daughter.”

“So which one is it?” Jack thought allowed, not actually expecting an answer. “It has to be one of them.”

Y/N sat down next to Garcia, searching for the best way to put it and instead settling on just saying it. “Garcia, out of the two of them, whose life ended up more fucked up?”

With a snort, she turned back to her keyboard, pulling up the backgrounds on both men. “Well, Eoin Walsh obviously lost custody of his daughter, but he didn’t serve more than 15 years in prison because apparently his wife’s character was in question, which doesn’t make any sense, because he still killed her, but whatever.” Angrily, she kept typing away, still in disbelief in regards to the justice system after all these years. “But his parents still visit him regularly and he even married again in prison.” She looked disgusted, and no could really blame her. “Calum on the other hand was released from prison after 22 years. When his parents learned of what he’d done, they disowned him, never going o see him the entire time he was locked up. On top of that, his wife took his daughter and left, and he got into frequent fights with other inmates causing him to be locked up in solitary.”

“That’s him,” Luke said. “Now, where does he have Jessica?”


	27. No Way Out

Without even being asked, Garcia started to click away at the keyboard, searching for where Calum Murphy went after being released from prison. “Washington Correctional requires that everyone released go to a halfway home on the way out,” she said.

“It’s more likely that an inmate will be reformed if they are required to go to some kind of program like that,” Spencer said while Garcia continued her assault on the keyboard. “He will have been required to complete a program, which if he didn’t complete successfully, would result in him returning to prison.”

JJ returned from the coffee machine with cups stacked high for each member of the team. “Obviously, he painted himself as the model prisoner,” she said. “Completed what he had to and then went about doing what he had planned on doing all along.”

Garcia raised her hand like a kid in class waiting to be called on. “I’ve got something. Upon his release from the halfway house, Murphy basically fell off the map for about six months until reemerging under his mother’s maiden name, O’Malley, as a warehouse worker in East Riverdale, Maryland. He lives in an apartment nearby, so she can’t be there, right? Too small?”

“Definitely,” Hotch said from the back of the room. For the past 10 minutes, he’d been standing off in the corner alone. “Jessica wouldn’t be quiet about being taken. She knows to put up a fight, and if she had and was in an apartment, we would’ve found her by now. Garcia, after being released from the halfway home, did he immediately rent the apartment?”

“No. I imagine he had to find the job beforehand,” she said. “And the warehouse he works in is full of windows and is heavily trafficked, so there’s no way she could be there either.”

Jack paced the floors of the round table room. “We’re running out of time. Who knows what the fuck this bastard has been doing to her over the past four days.” 

“We’re close,” Y/N said, attempting to grab his hand and calm him down. He stopped in his tracks, grazing her fingertips before sitting down next to her. “We’ll find her. Garcia, are there any places between his job and the halfway home that he could’ve squatted? Somewhere isolated? He could be keeping her there.”

“A list of places for a sicko to hide, coming up,” she said, bringing a map up on the screen. “There are three warehouses. One is very window heavy and it’s a single room, so that’s probably not going to be it. The second one has recently been bought, and is being refurbished so construction crews are in and out constantly. The last one,” she paused. “Address has already been sent. It was quarantined over a year ago - the only people who dared go inside were people that had nowhere else to go. The local department of health cleared it eventually but no one has wanted anything to do with it since.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Hotch said, quickly wrapping a shaky arm around her neck and pulling her in for a hug.

She returned the hug, squeezing him tightly. “Just doing my job, sir. Now go bring her safe. Stay safe, my babies.”

As they ran out of the BAU, everyone grabbed a vest. “We need to be prepared,” Hotch said. “He wants to make me miserable. That’s why he took Jessica instead of coming straight after me, but if we find him before he intended, there’s nothing stopping him from firing at us.”

All seven field agents piled into the vehicle and Emily stepped on the gas. Jack swallowed hard, looking between a determined Y/N and his scared shitless father. He just hoped they’d make it in time. But something in his gut was telling him this wasn’t going to end well.

—–

“Here’s your water for today,” Calum said, walking into the cold expansive room with a bottle in hand. She was still fighting, but he could tell she was tired. He could probably keep her alive for another few days at this rate. 

He’d covered his tracks well. He changed his last name. He didn’t use an address that was registered to either of his names. His accent had even blessed since he’d gone into prison. “Drink up, Jessica. You need to keep on fighting. That way when Aaron realizes he was too late, he’ll be driven mad knowing how much you fought. That none of it mattered.”

A weak hand reached up for the water and placed it at her lips. “He’s going to find you,” she breathed. Her eyes were heavy. She wasn’t in pain - she was just so tired. It took everything in her to not close her eyes. 

“Not likely,” he said. “Plus, if he does, I have a backup plan.” He patted the gun at his back. He wanted to drive him crazy, but if he had to shoot him - well, so be it. “Then you die anyway.”

CRASH!

Murphy swung around at the sound of the door flying open and grabbed Jessica by the neck, pulling her limp body up off the floor and holding the gun to her head. “Lower your guns agents, or I’ll kill her.”

“You kill her, we kill you,” Y/N screamed.

Murphy eyed the young agent, not realizing who she was until Aaron’s son tried to put himself in front of her. “Oh, you must be the girlfriend.” 

There was no clear shot. None of them could shoot Murphy without risking Jessica’s life, and she was barely awake as it was. “Put your weapon down, Murphy,” Hotch yelled. “There is no way out of this.”

“You’re right,” he replied cooly. “I’m going to die or go back to prison, but that doesn’t mean I can’t cause as much havoc as possible before this all ends.” He was determined to hurt Hotch in the worst way he could. “I could kill you. But that would be easy.” He brought Jessica’s face closer to his own, covering nearly three-quarters of his own head with hers before moving his hand toward Jack. “I could kill him, or maybe her.” Y/N didn’t flinch.

“Which one would hurt you more?” he asked honestly. He began to answer his own question as everyone looked for a possible shot to take. “Losing your own son might kill you, but it might be just as painful for your son to lose his girlfriend because of you. It would drive a wedge between you. Being forced apart from your son while you both still lives. I think that might be worse.

BOOM!

Without a second thought, he pushed Jessica to the ground, but not before shooting two bullets off in Y/N’s direction. One whizzed just past her, but the other hit her upper arm, knocking her backwards and onto the ground. Before she even hit the floor, Jack was by her side and the other members had taken the opportunity to riddle him with bullets. “No!” Jack screamed, putting pressure on her arm. “Hey, Y/N, talk to me.”

The blood spurted out of her arm, slipping between Jack’s fingers. He held tighter. An artery was nicked. She needed help now. “Hey,” she breathed, “Is Jessica okay?”

Hotch had her in his arms as she cried. “She’s okay. And Murphy’s dead.” He was sitting in his own pool of blood. Larger than Y/N’s, but hers was building up fast. “Hey, stay with me. An ambulance is on its way.” Her eyes were starting to close.

“I love you, you know that,” she slurred.

He pulled his jacket off and used the sleeves as a tourniquet, causing her to scream in agony. “Don’t! You said to take my love and fight! Don’t you dare give up on me!” His eyes welled with tears as her eyes started to flutter closed.

As the ambulance pulled up and took her away, he collapsed onto the floor, his head falling into blood-caked hands. Nearly every bit of hope drained out of him - the only sound penetrating his body being that of a flatlining machine as the ambulance drove away.


	28. The Other Side

All she could hear was the hum of a machine. And then it started to fade away. When she looked toward her arm where the bullet hit her, there was nothing there - no blood, not even the material from her shirt. Her entire outfit was different. “Hello, Y/N.” A soft female voice caught her attention. But when she looked up - it couldn’t be.

Before her was a woman of medium height, dirty blonde hair perfectly coifed at the back of her head. She was wearing red lipstick, as well as well-fitted jeans and a blue t-shirt. “Hayley…? Mrs. Hotchner?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” Hayley said. “You’re okay.”

How could she be here then? Where was here? “How?” she said softly, pushing up from the ground. Where before it had been stark white, an empty bar appeared; she recognized it. “This is where Jack and I had our first date.”

Hayley sat down in the seat where Jack once sat. “Yes, it is. You two had fun that night.” 

“We did,” Y/N replied, the tears welling in her eyes as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on. She clutched at her body, trying to see if she was real. Everything felt right. “Am I…am I dead?” Was she never going to see him again? If that were the case, she took solace in the fact that Jack and Hotch had each other.

Hayley shook her head, reaching across the table and placing her hand on top of hers. Her finger was still adorned with her wedding ring. Despite their estrangement, Hayley had been wearing the ring when she died. Everything felt so real. “How is this happening? What’s happening to me?”

“You’re on the table now, sweetie. You’ve lost a lot of blood. But you’re not gone, not yet…”

—–

All was silent as Jack and Hotch sat in the waiting room, surrounded by the rest of the team. No one said a word…until a sob wrenched itself out of Jack’s throat. Hotch brought a hand to his mouth and attempted to steady his own voice. “I’m so sorry, Jack. It’s…”

“Not your fault, Dad,” he cried, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand.

Again. It was happening again. Hotch knew it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t bear the weight of the overwhelming guilt. “I’m so sorry…” he sobbed. As his head fell into his hands again, a doctor came out. 

“Mr. Hotchner,” he said. Both Jack and Hotch looked up. It was about Jessica. “Ms. Brooks hasn’t been fed for about four days. The man was starving her to death, but she’s going to be okay. We need to give her food and fluids, and she needs rest, but she’ll be discharged in a few days.”

Through tears, they both breathed a sigh of relief. “Can we see her?” Jack asked. The doctor nodded, ushering them both inside.

“She’s in and out of sleep. So don’t stay long,” he said, leaving the two men behind.

Fora few moments, they just watched her sleep, silent tears rolling down their faces. “Aaron…Jack…” she breathed. “I knew you’d find me. How’s Y/N?”

Jack wept, unable to keep the emotions at bay. “She’s in surgery. But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Come here,” she whispered. She wished there was something she could do to help him. She could tell how much he loved this woman. “It’s gonna be okay… It’s gonna be okay.”

—–

“Not yet?” Y/N asked. “Am I going to die?”

She huffed slightly. “That’s up to you.”

“I have a choice?” Of course she wanted to live. She loved Jack. She had a family that loved her. A job she adored. But how was she supposed to fight when she was here? 

“You do. I do have to say it’s nice to meet you though,” Hayley replied with a laugh. She reminded Y/N of her own mother - warm and caring. “Jack loves you so much.”

A sob wrenched itself from her body and she clapped her hand to her mouth. “I love him too,” she cried. “I love your son so much.”

“I know you do.” She stood up from the table and wrapped her arms around Y/N’s body. She allowed her to sob into her chest for a few moments, before craning her head upward. “You’re good for him.”

If Y/N was lucky enough to come back from this, she knew she’d marry Jack one day. As she stared at her would-be mother-in-law, she made the decision to fight. “He misses you,” Y/N said. “So much. He still talks to your picture.”

“Tell him I hear him,” she said softly, the tears welling in her eyes. “Tell him I love him. So much. Tell Aaron too.”

All of a sudden, her body felt heavy - like somehow it was becoming real again. Hayley spoke again, but this time her voice was far off, more muted than before. “And Y/N…take care of him for me.”

“I will,” she said. “I promise.” As Hayley floated slowly out of view, she’d wondered if she’d heard her. But she blew a kiss her way and waved goodbye before disappearing completely. 

—–

“Clear!”

Her body arched off the table, but still nothing.

“Clear!”

Slowly, a steady rhythm returned to the monitor.

“She’s back! Let’s move.”


	29. Return Home

“Jack Hotchner?” Dr. Miller said as she emerged from the operating room. 

Along with the rest of the team, Jack rose from his seat, his eyes boring holes into the doctor before him. He could still see the remnants of blood - Y/N’s blood. “Is she alive?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she said, her small smile almost bringing Jack to his knees. He teetered backwards on his heels, but Hotch was there to catch him. “She had a severe bleed from her brachial artery. And she flatlined once. We were able to stop the bleed and she’ll be able to return to work in a couple of weeks. You’re very lucky, Mr. Hotchner. She’s a fighter.”

Immediately, everyone started to sob, allowing the tears to flow free after keeping them at bay for the sake of Hotch and Jack. “Will he be able to see her?” Hotch asked, rubbing his son’s shoulder as he tried to compose himself.

“Can we all see her?” Spencer asked. Even in the few short months since Jack and Y/N had become part of the team, everyone had gotten close with her.

“She’ll be waking up soon,” Dr. Miller replied. “But she’s going to be exhausted, so don’t stay too long.”

“You first,” JJ said softly, wiping the tear from her cheek with her index finger. “It’s gonna be okay now.” None of them had ever seen Jack cry before - not as an adult at least. The last thing any of them wanted was for him to lose the second woman he ever loved. After his mother, losing the woman he loved could’ve killed him.

As Jack tiptoed slowly into the room, he heaved an enormous sigh of relief. Despite the doctor telling him that she was going to be okay, seeing her weakened form take a breath, breathed life back into him. He walked up to the bed and his hand grazed hers. Suddenly, her hand twitched against his. “It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here. We’re all here.”

“Hayley…” she whispered hoarsely. She cleared her throat as recognition washed over Jack’s features.

“What? What did you say?”

She glanced between Jack and Aaron and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I saw Hayley,” she repeated. “I met your mom.”

Jack thought the sea of tears had dried up, but he was wrong. “You flatlined in the OR…you saw my mom?” His throat went dry.

“Yea,” she cried, looking around at the astounded faces of her team. “I thought I was awake, but I wasn’t. I was in the bar where we had our first date. And your mom was there.”

When she looked up from Jack, Y/N saw Aaron openly weeping. He leaned down at her side. Even after all this time, he missed Hayley more than anything. If anything, the time that had passed made him yearn to see her more. “Did she say anything to you?” he asked.

Y/N smiled softly. “We had an entire conversation,” she laughed. “After I recognized her, I asked her if I was dead.” As she remembered the encounter, it all felt so real. If she didn’t know now that she had been flatlining, she would’ve assumed that everything that had happened was real. “She said no, but that I could be if I didn’t fight. She said I had a choice. So I decided to fight to get back to you.” She wanted to continue recounting her conversation with his mother, but when she looked into Jack’s eyes, she lost it. 

“You came back to me,” he cried, taking her head in his arms and cradling it in his chest. “I love you. I’m so sorry. That bullet should’ve been for me.”

“I love you, too. And it could’ve been for any one of us. It’s not your fault.”

Before long, she became distracted by questions and concerns from the team. How was she feeling? Did she remember what happened before the bullet hit her? And of course, that she couldn’t come back to work for another two weeks because she needed time to heal. She understood, but it still pissed her off - which was how Jack knew she was going to be okay. “We’re going to leave you now,” Garcia said, ushering everyone but Jack and Hotch outside. “We’re just so glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Y/N replied. “Love you.”

“We love you, too, newbie.”

As Emily, JJ, Spencer, Garcia and Luke left the room, Y/N laughed, overhearing an exchange between Luke and Garcia. “You called her newbie,” Luke said. “Does that mean that after nearly a decade and a half you’re going to stop calling me newbie.”

“No way…newbie.”

“Dammit.”

For the first time since they’d walked into the hospital, Aaron and Jack cracked a smile. “There was more to my conversation with your mother,” Y/N said, grazing Jack’s cheek with her hand. 

“What else did she say?”

She smiled at the thought. “I think she approves of me,” she laughed. “She said I was good for you. I told her…I told her that you missed her. Both of you. She said she misses you too…and that she hears you when you talk to her picture.”

That broke him. “Really?” She nodded and his head collapsed into the bed.

“She said she loves you…and you, Aaron - she was still wearing her wedding ring.” Jack held her hand to his mouth, sobbing as she did her best to comfort him. “As I was leaving, she told me to take care of you. I promised I would.”

Jack stood up from the chair next to her bed and placed a kiss on her forehead. She reached over with her good arm and pulled him onto the bed with her. “Can you stay in here for a while? Until I fall asleep again?”

“I’m here as long as you want me, Y/N,” he breathed. 

Within a few minutes, sleep overtook her once again, but not before she asked if his Aunt Jessica was okay. As she rested against Jack’s chest, he looked at his father.

“I have something for you at home,” Aaron said. “I think mom would’ve wanted you to have it.”

Jack had no idea what it could be, especially so many years after his mother had passed, but whatever it was, it didn’t truly matter. Not as long as he had Y/N by his side, his mother and father in heart and mind, and his team at his back. With them, he could do anything.


	30. Everlasting Presence

“Oh my god, Mini Hotch,” Garcia exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes as she grabbed Jack by the cheeks. Y/N stood behind her with the rest of the team, laughing as Garcia gathered Jack into a bear hug. “This is beautiful. What made you two pick here?”

As he looked around, his eyes fell on Y/N’s finger, where his mother’s engagement ring from his father now sat. “My mom and dad loved this beach,” he replied. 

“Still do,” Hotch said serenely. As he stared out at the ocean, he could feel Hayley there with each breeze. In just two weeks’ time, Jack and Y/N would be married on this beach, surrounded by her family, their BAU family, Hotch, Aunt Jessica and of course, his mother. 

JJ and Emily had been standing behind Y/N, but they came up to rest on either of her shoulders. “This is beautiful,” JJ said. She was starting to fan away tears, for which Y/N teased her relentlessly.

“Just cry it out, JJ,” she teased, poking her in the arm at Emily’s insistence. “That’s what I’ve been doing. I love it here.” Jack had brought her there numerous times before, but the most special memory the two of them shared here was their engagement.

As Luke and Spencer discussed with Jack what the dress code was going to be, Garcia turned to Y/N and begged to see a picture of the dress she’d picked out. “Well, this was my mom’s wedding dress,” she said, swiping against her phone. “And this was Hayley’s wedding dress.” Both were very delicate, and she wanted to honor two of the most important women in her life, the one the bore her and the one that convinced her she could fight to return to the man she loved. “So this is mine.”

Her dress was a light dove gray with long, sheer sleeves. It looked as if flower petals of a similar color had been sprinkled from above, speckling the delicate chiffon waves that floated down to the floor. “I also have a dark gray band to go around my waist and I’m going to borrow a pin from Jack’s late grandmother and pin it on there.” Garcia took the phone from her grasp to take a closer look, considering she could barely see the beautiful gown through her own veil of tears. Once she got a closer look, she gasped, fanning her own tears away before gathering close to Y/N’s side.

“It’s beautiful,” Emily said with a hug. “It looks like it was made for you.”

It kind of had been. She’d been so set on having something that reminded her of her own mother, as well as her mother-in-law, that she’d taken a dress and had a few things added to make it her own. “It basically was,” she smiled. 

Considering how small a ceremony it was going to be, neither of them were going to have a wedding party. Besides Aaron, Jessica, Y/N’s family, and their BAU family, Henry and Michael LaMontagne would be coming, as well as Diana Alvez-Reid. Jack and Y/N would have to keep Diana and Michael’s little secret. Everyone they cared about most in the world would be there. 

Both of Y/N’s parents would be walking her down the aisle and Hotch would be standing at his son’s side as he made his vows. After what the three of them had been through, Hotch would be taking his own vows - to do everything within his power to keep his son and his daughter-in-law safe and happy. 

“I’m gonna go sit by the water for a few minutes,” Jack said. He always felt close to his mom when he was here. Sitting here and listening to the waves was one of her favorite things to do before she passed. The rest of the team went back to their own cars; they’d be meeting for dinner in about an hour, but until then Y/N would sit at Jack’s side and stare at the waves. “Hey,” he said, reaching up for her hand and bringing her down into his lap. 

“Hey back,” she laughed. She curled up into him as he leaned his hands back into the sand. “So how does it feel knowing you’re going to have your very own Mrs. Hotchner in a couple of weeks?” When she smiled up at him, his heart melted. When she’d been shot - when he’d heard her flatline in the ambulance - he was positive he’d never feel happy again. His mother had already been taken away too soon. If he had to deal with Y/N’s loss, he wasn’t sure how he would’ve handled it. 

Before responding, he placed his hand on the side of her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I love you, soon-to-be Mrs. Hotchner.” With a giggle, she pulled him toward her by his shirt and grazed her lips against his.

“What’s this?” she asked. She looked over Jack’s shoulder and toward the hotels behind them. Floating through the air were delicate little dots. Neither of them could figure out what they were until they floated to where they were. Maybe a bouquet had been thrown into the sky nearby - they weren’t quite sure, but when Y/N realized what they were, she was pretty sure Hayley had sent them - to tell her she knew.

Jack took the flowers from her hands and stuck them in her hair. “Are these baby’s breath?” he asked.

“Yea,” she said with a smile. “I think your mom sent them.”

“What do they actually mean?” he asked. I see them in everything.

“Well, they mean a lot of things actually,” she started, swallowing hard. “They can mean everlasting and undying love in pretty much any capacity. They can also stand for innocence-”

Jack chuckled and smirked in her direction. “We know it’s not that.”

“Shut up,” she replied, punching him in the arm. “They can also mean reconnecting with lost loves of disconnected family members.”

Y/N turned around in his lap so they were both facing the cresting waves. “That could definitely be sent from my mom then,” he said as he kissed her hair.

“Could be,” she said looking down at her stomach and remembering her pregnancy test from the day before, “But I there’s one other meaning for them and I think that might be it.” She leaned her head back and placed the baby’s breath on her stomach. “There is an obvious meaning for them.”

His easy, carefree smile vanished, his eyes filling with tears as he caught your meaning. “Wait? You..? You’re…? We’re…?”

“Mmmhmmm.”


End file.
